Revelations
by ihearttony
Summary: In an AU world where D/s relationships are common, Tony returns from being Agent Afloat to find his life unsettled. Will a case force Tony and Gibbs to deal with their feelings for each other, or drive them apart forever?  BDSM/slash/hurt-comfort
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes:_

_Well, this is definitely not the kind of story I typically write. Heavily influenced by slash and Xanthe, I decided to try and write a BDSM slash fic. There were many times I was ready to abandon it, but after I got so far in it seemed terrible to waste it. So I finally finished, and hope someone out there enjoys this crazy AU romance. _

_**If you do not want to read slash or BDSM, stay away from this story! **I don't think I can warn you any more forcefully._

_If you have read the warning and choose to proceed, I hope you enjoy the adventure._

Tony snapped a picture of the body then let the camera hang loosely around his neck. He tilted his head, brow furrowed in concentration. "How long do you think it took him?"

Tim McGee stopped scraping under the dead man's nails and looked up at the senior field agent. "How long do I think it took him to do what?" he asked, trying to use a bland, non-committal expression to hide the fact he was curious about what Tony was going to say next.

DiNozzo knew that McGee acted like the perfect little federal agent, but deep inside he believed his Probie enjoyed the irreverence he brought to their often gruesome work. Tim hadn't come out and said it, but Tony could tell he'd been missed during his months away as Agent Afloat; raising his eyes toward the ceiling he sent a silent prayer of thanks to heaven that his sojourn at sea was finally over.

Bending down closer to the corpse, Tony waved his hand over the man's lower extremities that were encased in skin tight black leather. "To get these pants on. You ever tried to slide into a pair of leather pants, McGee? It definitely takes some effort – a person can work up quite a sweat. Baby powder helps, though. Makes them less sticky."

"And you know this how, DiNozzo?"

The slightly caustic statement warmed his heart. McGee had years ago mastered the art of being his straight man - the perfect Hardy to his Laurel. A month after Vance had reassigned him back to DC, Tony still couldn't get enough of all the things that had made him homesick in their absence; Ziva's mangling of the English language, Abby's breathless tirades, Palmer's inability to follow a map. The fun he had at the expense of McGee's boundless innocence was one of those missing pieces he didn't know how much he cherished until it was gone.

Of course, he never planned to verbalize those feelings to Tim, so Tony merely shrugged in reply. "I've worn leather a few times in my misspent youth, McVirtuous. One thing I can promise – it's a hell of a lot easier to take off than get on." He grinned mischievously, earning an exasperated shake of his partner's head.

After sealing the evidence bag and storing it in his pocket, McGee stood and walked over to the various guitars displayed along the wall beneath multiple framed gold and platinum records. "It's hard to believe that an obsessed petty officer barely out of his teens killed an eighties heavy metal rock icon. Did you ever see his band in concert?"

"Oh, yeah – four or five times at least," Tony answered, the dreamy look on his face revealing some very good memories. "I loved White Tiger, they were one of my favorite hair bands. And poor Eric Davies here was a guitar god." He nodded at the deceased who lay face-down, long curly blonde hair smeared in a pool of his own blood, his rail-thin body littered with stab wounds.

Letting out a reverent sigh Tony joined McGee next to the display. "I didn't get to go to many concerts," Tim said wistfully. "My parents were pretty strict when I was a teenager. They loosened up a lot with Sarah."

"Well I'm sure you snuck out for a few Star Trek conventions," Tony remarked cheerfully. He let his gloved finger trail over the strings of a black guitar decorated with bright orange flames. "I got laid to a White Tiger song once. Allison was a senior cheerleader and I was a sophomore starting forward. The heavy bass line created the perfect rhythm for…." He smiled broadly in response to McGee's shocked expression. "They were good times, Probie, good times."

"You shouldn't touch that, Tony," the younger agent warned, glancing about nervously while Tony continued to lovingly trace the contours of the instrument.

"I've already photographed everything and you've scoured every inch of this place," the senior field agent replied. "Picking this up won't do any harm. Plus, I have on these." He waggled his gloved hands theatrically.

"This is a really bad idea." Tim folded his arms in frustration.

Ignoring McGee's admonition, he lifted the guitar out of the rack and held it up admiringly. "It is beautiful, isn't it? I can play a little – wanna hear?" He didn't wait for an answer before he slipped the strap over his head and held the guitar in position. "Man, I bet it was a rush for him to be onstage with thousands of girls screaming his name while he drove them wild with his solos."

"Come on Tony, put it back. Gibbs could get done with his interviews any minute," McGee's eyes flicked to the door apprehensively.

"Don't be such a McGoodyTwoShoes. This is like a real live version of Guitar Hero; I thought you might be able to relate." Tony hummed softly as he bounced on his toes, then let his shoulders bob, finally his head started banging up and down and he let loose with an air guitar riff while he mouthed the music to one of his favorite eighties songs. His arm pinwheeled and he jumped up in the air in a semi-split, landing with a curled lip and a loud screech worthy of any heavy metal star.

At that moment the door flew open and Gibbs stood framed in the opening glaring icily at his agents.

"DiNozzo, what the hell are you doing?"

"Uh, well," Tony straightened and carefully removed the guitar from around his neck, trying to improvise a way out of this somewhat embarrassing predicament. "I was just showing McGee here some of my favorite moves from Davies' concerts. We were done with processing, and….I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time." He grinned sheepishly and put the guitar back in place on the rack. "I really am a big fan, and not many of our dead bodies turn out to be celebrities – it's not like DC is a hot-bed for the rich and famous. It's dumb luck that he grew up here and wanted to live in his hometown. I didn't think he'd mind since I was paying my respects with one of his best songs and he always did that split thing at the end of his concerts…."

Tony's rambling trailed off when Gibbs stalked over to him, Ziva quietly slipping into the room behind the lead agent.

"So just because you're done processing you get to act like an idiot? What if an LEO had walked in here? Or a reporter sneaked inside? How do you think Vance would react to a picture of an NCIS agent playing rock band at a crime scene plastered all over the news?" Gibbs' eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. Tony knew he had gone too far this time - Gibbs had been telling him to get his pranks under control for weeks. He anxiously waited for the head slap, but none came. Surely, a break of protocol of this magnitude would be worthy of a physical reprimand. Tony's eyes stayed glued to Gibbs' hands, watching them clench into tight fists. He tensed the muscles in his neck, and in a small part of his soul, hoped for the signal that all had returned to normal.

Instead, Gibbs pressed his lips into a firm line of aggravation. His hands uncurled and wiped at his pants. He stepped in close to whisper menacingly in Tony's ear, so near it would be impossible for anyone else to hear his threat. "Think DiNozzo. It might be hard for you sometimes, but think before you pull another stunt like this one. You're my senior field agent and I expect you to start acting like it. No more stupid shit."

Without another word to Tony he turned and walked away.

Tony watched him go and his muscles twitched. He'd just been fooling around; no big deal. Did it really merit Gibbs calling him an idiot? Once upon a time, the lead agent might have even laughed at his actions. He scrubbed a hand over his face in annoyance. Those days were long gone.

Ziva approached, wagging her finger like an uptight school-marm. "He let you off easy, Tony. You should be glad he is not still yelling at you for something so incredibly childish."

McGee carefully placed his equipment and evidence in a backpack and zipped it. "You didn't earn a head slap for it; I really think you should stop trying to provoke him. I kind of figured you'd be glad he stopped hitting you."

"You think I want Gibbs to head slap me?" Tony laughed self-consciously. "Why would I want that? You're way off base."

Ziva scoffed loudly. "Do you expect us to believe that? Everything you have done since the first time Gibbs did not slap you has been to force his reaction. I agree with McGee, it is time to stop the nonsense before it goes too far. I am afraid instead of the result you want he is going to fire you instead."

"Or he could shoot you," McGee added helpfully. "What did he whisper in your ear? That was kind of scary."

"None of your beeswax, McNosy. And for the record, I am not trying to make Gibbs head slap me. Let's get out of here." He headed toward the door, stopping when a frazzled Dr. Mallard appeared with Jimmy Palmer in tow.

"I'm surprised our body hasn't decomposed by now, considering how long it took Mr. Palmer to locate our destination." The ME cast the skinny young man an irritated look.

"I told you, the directions were wrong!" Palmer protested, juggling several large cases of equipment. "It isn't my fault this time!"

The doctor ignored his assistant and brushed past the departing agents to kneel over the corpse. "Be that as it may, we are still late to the party." He tilted his head up at Tony. "Tell Jethro I'll have a report to him as quickly as possible; I do hope he isn't upset by our tardiness."

Tony gave a small and bitter laugh. "Don't worry Ducky, he's so pissed at me you have nothing to be worried about."

The ME's blue eyes showed concern; as the "elder statesman" of the team he didn't like it when things were amiss and didn't hesitate to take their leader to task when he felt it was necessary. "Is there a problem?"

Ziva and McGee stared at Tony waiting for his response. "No, no problem," he muttered, and headed back to the van alone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony balled up another piece of paper and shot it into the trash can; sadly only he, Wally the night janitor, and the bright orange walls witnessed his tenth basket in a row. At least Wally gave him a nod of approval before gathering his supplies and turning the corner. _That's what you get when you file your report at 4:00 in the morning_, he admonished himself. Doing his best work at night really kind of sucked sometimes, although being at his apartment wouldn't have made a difference considering he hadn't managed to get a decent night's sleep in longer than he could remember. He felt tired, surly, unpleasant, and completely incapable of shaking his foul mood.

Ever since returning from his time as Agent Afloat nothing in his life had been quite right. He thought he could come back and fit into his old routines like slipping on an old pair of shoes, but it hadn't been that simple. All around he sensed judgment for what he'd done – or rather not done – that ended in former Director Jenny Shepard's death. He could see it in the eyes of Ziva and McGee when they refused to follow his orders, hear it in the voice of Jenny's secretary Cynthia when she choked out a strangled hello in the hallway, unable to bring herself to look at him, smell it when another woman passed by wearing Jenny's favorite perfume, and taste it with every bitter swallow of alcohol that never burnt away the memory of the fiery redhead lying dead at his feet.

He felt the loss most keenly with the absence of every head slap that Gibbs refused to give, a constant reminder that some sins are unforgiveable.

Gibbs claimed not to blame him for his former lover's untimely death, but that statement hadn't been supported by the older man's actions. The once easy camaraderie they'd shared was over. At one time Tony had visited Gibbs' place at least every few weeks for Chinese take-out or pizza, occasionally they went to a Wizards game or to catch the Redskins, and there were a few evenings after tough cases – like the undercover op with Jeffrey White – when Tony had sat on the steps in Gibbs' basement drinking beer and watching him work on the boat until he felt ready to face the world again. Gibbs' recent cold demeanor made it clear he didn't intend to extend similar invitations any time soon. The perpetually unlocked door to Gibbs' house had been slammed in his face. The senior field agent had screwed up and he knew it; he supposed it had been naïve to believe everything could go back to the way it was before. Jenny had been Gibbs' lover and Tony let her die; nothing he ever did could change that, despite what he would give to do it all differently.

It was no wonder Gibbs had lost faith in his ability as an agent since most days Tony didn't have all that much faith in himself anymore. The long, lonely days at sea had provided plenty of opportunity to figure that out.

Rubbing his weary eyes, he closed down his computer and laid his head on his desk. There wasn't enough time for him to go home now, so a few hours sleep here and a quick shower in the agent's locker room was the best he was going to get. He hoped no one else noticed his slightly rumpled state, but considering that Gibbs wasn't the most nattily dressed man he'd ever met, there was a pretty good chance he'd still be the sharpest guy in the room even if he was wearing yesterday's clothes. That is, with the exception of Leon Vance; the new Director always managed to look like he'd stepped straight out of a Versace dressing room, a fact Tony found incredibly irritating.

Pillowing his head on his arms, he let his mind drift until he finally dozed off.

"Doesn't he look sweet when he's asleep?" The soft voice broke through his consciousness and he felt a warm hand gently pet his hair. Sounds of people moving through the office announced that morning had arrived far too soon.

"I'm not asleep," he grumbled, sitting up and raising his arms over his head in a languid stretch. "At least not anymore."

Abby grinned happily, tossing her long body onto his lap and giving him a big hug. "Tony, you should have gone with us to the book signing instead of pulling another all-nighter here. Meeting Doctor Sawyer was so exciting!"

DiNozzo kissed the top of the forensic scientist's head and accepted the cup of coffee McGee held out to him. The younger man could be such a pompous ass some days that it nearly drove Tony out of his mind, but that didn't stop them from looking out for one another.

"Thanks, Probie," he said gratefully, taking a sip over the Goth's dark pigtails, being careful not to spill any on her. "Abs, you know how I feel about Sawyer; he's a glorified quack and I can't believe the three of you have jumped on his bandwagon. I'd rather be here finishing up paperwork than standing in line for hours to shake hands with the great and powerful Oz. He's a fake, a charlatan, a con-man."

McGee took a drink of his own coffee, gazing at his co-worker thoughtfully. "I don't know, Tony, it was pretty cool. I'd say over five hundred people were there. Of course, Abby not only managed to get Sawyer's autograph, he also promised to email her his latest research paper."

The scientist giggled. "Isn't that so awesome? I mean the most influential man of the last fifty years, and he's corresponding with little old me? I can't believe it!"

Ziva put her hands on her hips and frowned at their sleepy-eyed partner, who had his arms wrapped tightly around Abby's chest and his head resting lazily on her shoulder. "You have not even read the doctor's book, have you Tony?"

DiNozzo shifted position to better accommodate Abby's size; she wasn't a small girl even without the three inch heels currently strapped to her feet. "No, Ziva, I'm the last red-blooded American who refuses to read that crap. You guys can change your entire life philosophy based on some mumbo-jumbo the esteemed doctor shoves down your throats, but Anthony DiNozzo has no intention of following the masses like a lemming heading blindly over the edge of a cliff."

Abby tapped him on the nose. "You are scared, Very Special Agent DiNozzo. You're afraid of what you might discover if you let your guard down and accept that Dr. Sawyer's theories might be right."

Tony scowled and moved, causing Abby to lose her balance and slide toward the floor.

"Hey!" she yelled, before he snatched her arm and tugged her back into place on his lap.

"I am not scared," he complained into her ear. "I just don't need some stranger telling me that my approach to life should be based more on his neat little hypothesis than on my own choices. Besides, if someone hadn't filed the preliminary reports on this case Gibbs was going to kill all of us. So consider it my duty as senior field agent to stay here and work while the rest of you go out and have a good time."

Ziva waved her hand dismissively, completely ignoring Tony's self-anointed sacrifice. "When we picked the petty officer up at his apartment he was covered in the victim's blood. This case is open and shut; you were looking for an excuse to avoid us last night. Abby is right – you do not want to know any more about yourself than what you have already decided. We have all completed our profiles, Tony, and I believe it has been liberating to discover where we stand in regard to our relationships and sexuality. McGee and Abby are both submissive in nature, and I am more dominant. It is a part of our innate make-up, an aspect of our psyche that is better accepted than ignored so it cannot cause problems when we select romantic partners. Most people find Dr. Sawyer's research to be very enlightening." She smirked at him. "I am honestly surprised that someone of your less than virtuous appetites has so much difficulty embracing the concept."

"I thought at least _you_ might hold out against the psychobabble, Ziva, but I guess not. I certainly wouldn't want to stand in the way of you selecting the right romantic partner." Tony's voice dripped with barely contained sarcasm, and Ziva raised her eyebrows at his cynical statement.

"Perhaps this stubborn unwillingness to explore your sexuality explains your recent lack of dates, Tony," she countered.

"I think it's more because he looks like he slept under his desk," Gibbs commented dryly, striding through the bullpen to sit down in his own chair with a pinched look on his face. He took a long drink from his coffee cup and eyed his team appraisingly. "DiNozzo, hit the showers - you smell like a pair of dirty gym shorts."

Abby lifted Tony's arm and sniffed his armpit, before wrinkling her nose with disgust. Tony snarled at her and sat his friend gently on the floor, taking a final drink of his own coffee before throwing the cup in the trash and grabbing a shaving kit and clean shirt out of a file cabinet drawer. He made a face at Ziva and sauntered across the bullpen, flicking a gaze at Gibbs as he walked. The lead agent seemed focused on the papers scattered across his desk and showed no interest in the awkward conversation he'd interrupted. It was fairly obvious that Gibbs didn't need to use the Sawyer scale to determine his dominant persuasion. One look at those steely blue eyes and the sound of his low growl placed him at the top of that particular chart; Tony doubted a submissive bone existed anywhere in the man's body.

Gibbs unexpectedly glanced up and caught him staring; Tony quickly averted his eyes, suddenly uncomfortable - maybe Gibbs had been paying attention to their discussion after all. The lead agent didn't smile, and Tony could literally feel those eyes boring into him all the way to the elevator. It took a vast amount of self-control to not run in order to escape the penetrating gaze.

After the metallic doors slid shut behind him, Tony leaned against the cold wall and considered everything from the past ten years that had led to this point, where it was perfectly normal to have a conversation at work about sexual orientation and lifestyle choices and no one gave it a second thought. Dr. Sawyer's groundbreaking book, _Choosing Sides: Are You a Dominant or a Submissive? _proposed the idea that every person is born with an inclination to be either a Dom or a sub, and not only is there little choice in the matter, that innate desire is what drives human actions in all relationships. The book was based on years of research the scientist had conducted for the Kinsey Institute, and the support of such an esteemed organization immediately lent credibility to the study.

Then, of course, there was the fact Oprah had added the work to her book club list and invited the doctor to be a guest on her show. Immediately, what was once a part of the alternative fringe subculture became a socially acceptable way of life. When the talk show host and her best friend revealed their own D/s relationship to the world, there was no stopping the momentum. Everyone wanted to find out his or her natural preference, and a societal revolution was born.

Now, asking someone if they were a Dom or a sub had become as common as asking for a birth date or a phone number. Dominants could partner with a submissive in a legally recognized contract. While walking through the mall no one batted an eye when passing a collared and leashed sub being led by a Dom. He shook his head as he shut the shower room door and stripped off his dark grey suit, folding it carefully and placing it on a chair. A decade ago he predicted this was just another fad, like pet rocks or Valley girls. But he had been very wrong in his analysis – every year more people accepted the doctor's position as truth and joined in following the trend. Of course there had been opposition and backlash, but holdouts like him were becoming few and far between.

He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and ran a bar of his favorite mint-scented soap over his body; it had been a long time since he'd been in any kind of significant relationship so the D/s movement hadn't made much difference to him. The closest he had come was the thing with Jeanne. He had cared about her more than anyone in years, his foolish heart ignoring his mind's warnings that it was all for naught. She'd encouraged him to daydream about buying a house with a white picket fence – something that hadn't appealed to him since breaking up with Wendy.

The memory of his auburn-haired fiancé sent a pang through his stomach as it usually did, and he wondered how his life would have been different if they had stayed together. Her decision to call off their engagement had altered the course of his existence in the most profound way possible. The friends who got so much enjoyment out of teasing him over his love-them and leave-them attitude had no clue that if things had worked out the way he'd planned there was every possibility he would currently be the father of two kids who went home every night to his beautiful and loving wife.

But fate determined that wasn't meant to be, so he forcefully pushed those memories aside like he always did, unwilling to deal with the torrent of feelings they evoked.

Still, there was something intriguing about Sawyer's findings. In the bedroom he'd always taken charge with his fiancé; it had been the same with Jeanne and all the one night stands he'd had over the years. There was never a question he was the dominant personality in those relationships. He hadn't earned the sex-machine nickname for nothing.

Occasionally, though, he indulged in his darker interests, the ones he tried for the most part to ignore and only acknowledged when he felt that succumbing to them might keep him from flying apart in a million pieces. They were tendencies linked to painful moments buried so deep inside he couldn't let himself think about them – ever.

He gave up control when sleeping with a man.

It had been like that the first time he got drunk and hooked up with a guy in college and every time since then and he couldn't explain why. All of the men he'd ever been attracted to were alpha males of the most dominant kind. He could let himself go with them and not worry about pretending to always be tough, or confident, or in charge.

Fleetingly he considered if that's what he needed right now; a good hard fuck to soothe out his rough edges and mend him back together, an opportunity to let go and forget about having to make the right decisions twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. Years had passed since he'd even considered it; the last time was during a drunken weekend a few months after Wendy called off the wedding. Letting a guy pound his brains out hadn't been the best way to deal with her leaving, but somehow that and a lot of alcohol got him through the worst of it. Psychologically, he knew it was warped beyond explanation.

Tony sighed and shampooed his hair. At least one good thing had come out of Dr. Sawyer's books; Tony no longer considered the fact he enjoyed a good-looking man as much as a good-looking woman to mean there was something wrong with him. Sawyer theorized that although some people were inherently attracted to one gender or the other, many more were attracted to the individual and gender was irrelevant. As long as the potential partner matched the Dominant or submissive's nature that was all that mattered to Sawyer and his groupies. Tony doubted he'd ever announce to the world that he swung both ways every once in a while, but it certainly had been a relief to find out he could consider at least _that_ aspect of his personality fairly normal.

It also let him feel a little better about the way he sometimes got goosebumps whenever a certain silver-haired agent stood too close or how his cock twitched when that particular agent smacked him on the back of the head. Which, of course, hadn't happened at all recently. McGee and Ziva were right, all the shit he'd been pulling had been designed to elicit the feel of Gibbs' hand making contact with his skin, even if he had to be reprimanded to receive it.

It wasn't like he was in love with Gibbs…..not really. Anybody in their right mind would find the man attractive, considering his clear blue eyes, strong physique, and commanding presence. The half-smile he sometimes gave to Tony when they shared a private joke or how he tilted his head when he was lost in thought….. Shit, Tony's dick was already bobbing at half-mast. "Stop that," he admonished his penis, which had been known to get him into trouble when he wasn't paying enough attention to what it was doing. Thinking about Gibbs in any manner other than professional was not an activity he needed to indulge in because it was sure to lead to catastrophe. Gibbs had never shown an interest in anyone other than a red-headed female and he certainly wasn't sexually attracted to his screwed-up senior field agent.

Gibbs never made any comments about the whole Dom/sub thing, piquing Tony's curiosity about the older agent's opinion on the topic. Was it possible Abby had forced Gibbs to complete a profile like she had him? He'd have to ask her. His own results had been less than comforting. He had fallen into a small category the doctor identified as "unknown" – according to the test he didn't exhibit enough traits to be classified as either Dominant or submissive; Tony determined it to be hopelessly confused. Abby nearly accused him of lying to skew the outcome, until she'd realized how bothered he was by the ambiguity. In a world where everyone was picking sides, he couldn't figure out what he wanted, and not even the most prestigious scientist alive today could make any sense of him. There was something missing from his life, a hole he couldn't fill, and it grew larger every day threatening to consume him. It would actually be nice to know if he was a Dom or a sub, because then he might not feel so fucking lost.

Over the last few months while sailing around the ocean enduring forced isolation he had come to one stark conclusion. Destiny had spoken, and clearly no great love waited for him - it was high time he accepted that and quit fighting the inevitable. No matter how depressing it might be, resigning himself to the fact there was no one out there for him would make everything else so much easier. He could enjoy his meaningless hook-ups without remorse.

He let the water run over his head and down his body; overcome by a wave of exhaustion he leaned his hands against the wall for support. Nothing in his life had turned out the way he thought it would; his past had left him with a mountain of regret. Jeanne's angry eyes would haunt him forever. Then there was the terrifying memory of Gibbs' vacant eyes staring at nothing after Tony pulled him from the murky river, the hopelessness of Jenny's lifeless eyes when she lay on the filthy floor of that diner, and the finality in Wendy's eyes when she told him it was over. For some reason the vision of Kate's sightless gaze was worst of all, and he wished she were here now to point a finger in his face and ream him out for his recent dysfunction.

He shook his head, droplets of water flying in all directions. He had to stop this, letting his mind roam off on these morbid tangents. It was happening way too often lately, and he had to somehow refocus on the here and now. Self-pity would get him nowhere fast. Turning off the water, he let out a bone-weary sigh, ignoring the pit in his belly that never seemed to go away.

Exiting the shower, Tony dried off and quickly dressed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his Armani the best he could. Grabbing some gel from his kit, he styled his brown hair and grinned slightly at his reflection, deciding he didn't look too bad for a man leaving his thirties behind and moving toward the unknown path of his forties. He straightened his tie and let all his masks slip into place, allowing their familiarity to give him a small measure of comfort. The clown, the prankster, the chauvinist, the brat – they were all him, yet somehow not. No one got to see the true Tony for more than a few minutes at a time, and then only when he let his guard down. The real Tony he protected at all costs.

He straightened his shoulders; it was time to quit brooding and enjoy being home even if that meant he had to accept responsibility for what he'd done and come to terms with the fact Gibbs might never treat him the same way again. For all intents and purposes he'd lost the affection of the one person he had been stupid enough to delude himself into believing would always be there for him. They were boss and subordinate - not equals, not friends, and certainly nothing more than that.

He'd been through it all before, in other times and other places, and he knew from experience his life, for whatever it was worth, would go on with or without the support of those who had ultimately turned their backs on him; his father, his family, his partners, his coaches, and even Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs looked over at where his team was ooing and aahing about the signature in that damn book that had turned everybody around him inside out and upside down. He longed for the days when kinky sexual practices were kept hidden under lock and key – he was much more comfortable with repression than all this open honesty. The elevator dinged and Ducky rushed into the bullpen, followed by Palmer close on his heels.

"Did you meet him?" the medical examiner asked, his excitement making the elderly physician seem more like a young boy than a stately coroner in his twilight years.

McGee held out the prized possession and displayed the handwriting on the inside page. "We even got an autograph! Dr. Sawyer was really nice and very taken with Abby's knowledge of his theories. I couldn't believe he actually spent a few minutes talking to us."

The physician nodded. "I have always been impressed with his gentlemanly qualities despite the lofty status he has acquired. I knew him quite well in his days as a mere student at University, but of course back then his ideas were met with a great deal of derision and disdain. How that has changed with time!"

Palmer bit his lip. "I can't imagine what it was like before everyone starting identifying themselves. It must have been very confusing to not know who was a Dom and who was a sub."

"Not so much," Gibbs interjected, standing up and approaching the group. "We just had to work to figure each other out – the key word there being work, which I think is what all of you are supposed to be doing right now." His eyes narrowed. "I would appreciate it if you'd quit fawning over this," he snatched the book out of Ducky's hand and tossed it onto Tony's desk, "and get back to doing your jobs."

"Yes, yes, of course," Ducky said apologetically. "I have confirmed our deceased musician expired as a result of multiple stab wounds, specifically one that severed his femoral artery. Our findings support your theory that the petty officer attacked Mr. Davies in a crazed and ruthless frenzy. I would guess the killer may have been under the influence of narcotics as well as experiencing a psychotic break. I have yet to receive his medical records, but I expect to find some history of mental illness."

"So in order to close this case I need tox screens on the petty officer's bloodwork, a complete medical history, as well as statements from his friends and family regarding any evidence of obsession regarding the victim?" Gibbs listed the remaining items in a brusque, businesslike fashion.

Ducky cleared his throat. "Yes, that does sound like it would suffice. Mr. Palmer, let us return to Mr. Davies in autopsy and see if he has anything more to tell us." He motioned for the young man to follow, and the two of them made a quick retreat to the safety of the elevator.

Abby glanced between Gibbs' angry expression and Ziva and McGee's worried ones. "Hold that elevator!" she said loudly, turning on her incredibly high heels to join the ME and his assistant. "I'll have that tox screen in thirty, Gibbs," she exclaimed. As the doors closed she smiled apologetically at the two colleagues who were about to feel the brunt of Gibbs' formidable wrath.

Ziva hastily withdrew behind her desk. "I am going to see why it is taking so long to get the medical records." She immediately picked up her phone, studiously avoiding looking up at their boss.

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at McGee who took a few steps backward. "And I am going to access the petty officer's cell phone records to see how many times he called Davies. Maybe he posted threats on the band's web sites – I'll look for that, too." When Tim's legs hit the edge of his desk he turned around and rushed to sit down.

The lead agent stood in the center of the room for a few minutes and watched them silently working, before returning to his own desk.

Satisfied that his team was back on track, he mulled over the problem of his senior field agent. He was glad Tony had stayed at work last night; it was a good sign that maybe the younger agent was getting his head straightened out. DiNozzo hadn't been himself since his stint as Agent Afloat, and Gibbs hadn't been able to fix the situation.

He knew Tony felt guilty about Jen's death; hell the two of them had been peas in a pod during his time-out in Mexico, and Tony considered her more than a boss but a friend as well, even after the entire La Granouille disaster. It was difficult for DiNozzo to accept that Jenny had manipulated him in order to die the way she wanted; granted Gibbs would have never left the Director alone while on a protection detail, but Jenny had understood exactly how to entice Tony to do so. It had been a mistake, yet it wasn't something Tony had to spend the rest of his life paying penance for. The last few months had helped him deal with the pain of Jenny's death, and even though he had been angry for awhile, he knew Tony had ultimately been following orders and deserved to be forgiven for not being able to see Jenny's hidden agenda.

It also didn't mean the younger man wasn't good at his job – he was more talented than any other agent Gibbs had ever worked with, except for the last few weeks when Tony seemed to have given up and become content with playing the clown most of the time. They needed to get rid of this incarnation of his senior field agent and return to the work smarter not harder DiNozzo from several years ago, before all the shit hit the fan.

He did have some ideas about how to help his agent, but he doubted the younger man would be very open to his methods, especially considering the conversation he'd walked in on earlier. Gibbs had always been able to see right through the layer of bravado and designer suits that Tony tried to hide behind. The former cop was tough as nails, stubborn as a mule, and a hell of a lot more competent than anyone would guess. He was also a submissive in need of someone to ground him from time to time, and he doubted even Tony was aware of that fact. In all that hiding the man did, he'd managed to hide from himself most of all.

The way Tony had been practically begging for a head slap hadn't escaped Gibbs' keen observation and yesterday's antics reaffirmed Tony's desperation for the familiar correction that he continued to withhold. Tony had to find another way to get his needs met, so Gibbs had consciously decided to withdraw the physical contact hoping it would push DiNozzo to accept what was glaringly obvious to everyone around him.

The decision hadn't been easy; it was frustrating to watch Tony's increasingly outrageous behavior and there were moments he wanted to take DiNozzo into the elevator and swat more than the back of his head, but ultimately Tony needed to ask for his or someone else's assistance. DiNozzo was wound tight and ready to snap, years of denying his true self building up to the point of potential self-destruction. Gibbs could force Tony to accept his help, but he knew that would backfire; DiNozzo was too damn obstinate and proud to simply be told he needed to be topped. No, Tony had to figure it out for himself for it to ever work.

Gibbs didn't particularly like the idea of Tony going to another Dom to help bring him down, as a matter of fact the thought made him want to hit something. But he was Tony's boss, and Rule Twelve existed for a reason. So he was giving Tony space to figure things out before something else happened that drove the young man to try even more distressing coping mechanisms.

Or he did something so reckless that Vance would have an excuse to send him away forever.

Gibbs' musing was interrupted when his phone rang. He listened to Vance's request before rising and addressing his agents. "I've got to go help the Director prepare a press conference about our dead rock star. You two finish up the details on this case so we can close it before the media turns it into a three ring circus."

"So I guess NCIS finally made the news?" McGee asked hopefully. "Tony will be thrilled."

Gibbs headed toward the stairs. "Yeah, well you tell DiNozzo he'd better have something to add to this case besides a list of the guy's best make-out songs or I'm going to reassign him as Agent Afloat myself."

Ziva raised her eyebrows as their boss jogged out of sight. "I do not believe that Tony is one of Gibbs' favorite people these days."

McGee tugged hard on a drawer that wouldn't open, finally placing a foot on one side and pulling with all his strength until the metal popped loose, sending him scooting back in his chair. "He has been pretty out of control lately. Half my desk drawers are still super-glued shut, and if I'm not mistaken you set off another hidden confetti bomb just yesterday."

Flicking a stray piece of colored paper off the top of a stack of files, Ziva sighed. "He is absolutely frantic for Gibbs' attention even if it is negative. I believe he wants to be assured that Gibbs forgives him for….you know."

"You said it yourself, Ziva, he should have never left Jenny alone. He has to deal with that." McGee squinted at something on the computer screen.

"I was there, too, McGee. I could have done more." Ziva stared out the window at the cloudless sky. "Perhaps then Jenny would be alive and Tony would not have turned into a twelve year old."

McGee stopped typing and leveled a gaze at her. "He's the one always reminding us that he's senior field agent. He made the call to leave her alone, not you. Nothing you or I or even Gibbs can do will ever change that. Before anyone else can forgive Tony, he has to forgive himself."

Ziva blinked her large brown eyes. "I do not know if he can do that, Tim." With the unpleasant statement hanging in the air between them, she picked up her phone and went back to work.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony glanced at his watch. Gibbs had yet to budge from his meeting with the Director; while his teammates worked feverishly on assignments Gibbs had given them with orders to be finished by the time the meeting was over. McGee hunched over his keyboard and Ziva talked softly into her phone – they glanced at him from time to time, but neither seemed willing to breech his somber mood.

He swiveled in his chair and tried to think of something to do to help make up for yesterday's embarrassment. He might have no choice but to accept his role in past mistakes, yet that didn't mean he couldn't try to do his best from now on. He wouldn't give up that easily; his role at NCIS meant too much to him.

Surely Gibbs placed more value in the real-world experiences he had gained in his tenure as a police officer and homicide detective than any Ziva had attained while in the Mossad and Probie had acquired when leading the team of geeks down in the basement. The lead agent just needed a reminder of his importance to the team.

The belief the older man had shown in his talents meant the world to him and he couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose that support indefinitely. The current situation, although bad, was hopefully just be a bump in the road. It wasn't like he hadn't been appreciated in his other jobs; he'd always had a few superiors and co-workers who could see his true worth. Ok, sometimes he annoyed people and the Philly position had ended in a huge cluster-fuck, and of course Baltimore had gone to hell in a handbasket, but for the most part his career had maintained an uphill trajectory – he'd gone from beat-cop to detective to federal agent without much pause.

But working with Gibbs was a different scenario than any other he had encountered; from day one Tony knew he couldn't manipulate the man or win him over with witty banter or cute repartee. Gibbs didn't give a rat's ass about his latest conquest of the opposite sex or that he'd played basketball for Ohio State. Gibbs had no interest in pop culture or movie trivia, all of which Tony considered to be the backbone of his charm. Instead, the silver-haired federal agent was notorious for his uncompromising tenacity and unwillingness to tolerate incompetence on his team. Gibbs expected nothing less than 110% every moment of every day on every case. And for some indefinable reason Tony gave him that without question, and had been giving him that for nearly seven years. He had no intention of stopping now. Tony didn't try to analyze his overpowering need to do what Gibbs wanted too much, it just seemed to be embedded in his DNA.

In return, Gibbs usually overlooked his little idiosyncrasies that drove others crazy and to the uninitiated seemed like goofing off at best or adult onset AD/HD at worst. If Tony got too far out of line, a solid thwack on the back of the head pushed him in the right direction. He knew everyone else, except maybe Abby, saw the head slaps as demeaning and beyond the realm of professional conduct. Tony didn't see them that way at all. To him they were reminders that Gibbs cared enough to push him to do better. Not many people in his life had ever taken the time to give him any kind of guidance and Tony appreciated it even if the method was a bit unorthodox. That's why their loss hurt so much.

"You don't waste good." Gibbs told him that when he first joined NCIS, and Tony had never forgotten those words. It was his goal to prove that Gibbs was right and that he really was good enough to be a part of the Major Crimes Response Team, a part of Gibbs' team, regardless of the LA disaster. He was a reflection of Gibbs, and he always came through for his boss when it counted. Tony propped his feet on his desk and tapped them to an imaginary rhythm – where others wilted under the weight of the former Marine's demands, Tony excelled; it was definitely one of the reasons they complimented each other so well and he had survived so long with Gibbs' where countless others had been forced to cut and run.

Even the great Stan Burley had ended up with an ulcer for his efforts.

He was damn proud that Gibbs could see him for what lay beneath the surface. Tony laced his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. When he started at NCIS he never would have imagined this is where he would find a home. It was like discovering the lost piece of a puzzle he hadn't even known was misplaced until it snapped into position. Of course, that didn't mean his need for constant reassurance was gone – he could thank his dear old dad for that little legacy born from years of neglect and parental disinterest.

In the past, Gibbs didn't seem to mind his occasional bouts of insecurity. Lately though, even the ex-gunnery sergeant acted more aggravated by his behavior than usual, and the missing head slaps had gone from mildly weird to downright scary. Maybe his boss had lost some faith in him because of Jenny, but that's what made going the extra mile so important. He had to prove that he deserved to be here. The time had come to wipe the slate clean and start over – he'd be the best damn agent Gibbs had ever dreamed of.

Tony hopped to his feet and grabbed his jacket. "I'm heading out to interview members of the petty officer's unit. Add what they have to say to him taking a bath in Davies' blood and there should be no doubt about his guilt."

Ziva stood and popped the kinks out of her back. "I will go with you. I have been unable to get the records we need over the phone; maybe a personal visit will prove more successful."

McGee smiled humorlessly. "I'll stay here with Gibbs. Thanks."

"Way to take one for the team, McGee. See you in a few!" Tony called as they left, determined to do something right for a change.

He wouldn't give up until he found a way to win Gibbs' forgiveness. He had made his way back on the team, and he wasn't about to lose what mattered most in his life, regardless of what he had to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Notes: I have a long weekend, so I'm going to post this today and Chapter 3 tomorrow; that will get the story through the set up phase. Thanks to everyone who has put this on alert or favorite, as well as those who have reviewed. I know it's a departure (just remember, I also turned our boys into vampires, so maybe going this route wasn't that unexpected). I have tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible and the story is embedded within a case, so it does have a sense of realism._**

**_I'm a glutton for feedback, so if you like it let me know! (If you have an issue with the genre, just keep it to yourself)._**

**_Again, WARNING: This story is BDSM and Slash. If you are offended by those topics, do not read. _**

Vance tossed his chewed apart toothpick in the trash. "That should be enough information for now. You can go with me to the press conference to field any specific questions that might come up."

Gibbs grunted. "Give me a break, Leon, you know I hate this stuff."

"Comes with the territory. We've got every cable network in the country working this story and I intend to handle it right, so straighten up your jacket and get ready for the spotlight." He pulled out another toothpick, the habit worse than a pack a day smoker. "So, how's your boy doing now that he's back?" Vance nonchalantly led the way to the door.

"He's fine." Gibbs kept his answer clipped and to the point. There was no way this was only an innocent question about Tony's welfare; the new Director didn't do innocent. Gibbs waited for the hammer to fall.

Vance stopped in the hallway. "I hear there have been several incidents of unprofessional behavior in your area of the bullpen recently. Something about Officer David covered in confetti and Agent McGee using a crowbar to open his desk."

"It's under control. I'm sure you've got bigger issues to worry about than a few harmless pranks." Gibbs had been concerned Vance was watching Tony; his fears were now confirmed. "You got somebody keeping tabs on my team?"

"I make it my personal mission to know what's happening to all of my agents. Frankly, Gibbs, I'm surprised you put up with it; a no-nonsense man like you doesn't suffer fools easily." The toothpick shifted up and down while the Director chewed the end.

Gibbs kept his face impassive. "That's why I don't have any fools on my team, Leon. I only work with the best, and that includes every single one of them. If you have something to say, why don't you put it out on the table."

The Director's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. Eventually the corners of his mouth turned up. "No, Gibbs, I have nothing to say. Yet."

With that he started toward the elevator, Gibbs watching his retreating back. Vance was biding his time, waiting for Tony to screw up.

And once DiNozzo did, the Director wouldn't hesitate to send Tony away, this time for good.

_NCISNCSICNIS_

When Tony and Ziva eventually stepped off the elevator and back into the office, the sun had started to set casting a golden glow through the skylights. Tony dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped into his chair. "I don't now who's crazier; the patients staying in that place or the people working there."

"Problems?" McGee asked, removing his hands from his keyboard and stretching his fingers.

Ziva huffed. "Only that every person we talked to sent us to someone else, no one could find anything, and their filing system is archaic. We were there so long I thought they might keep Tony."

"Ha-ha, Miss Priss," Tony said tiredly, his late night definitely catching up with him. "At least we got the complete medical records for Ducky and statements that the petty officer is nutty as a loon from all his bunkmates." He glanced at Gibbs' empty desk. "Where's the boss?"

"He and the Director came back from the press conference about an hour ago and went straight into MTAC." McGee explained.

"He could be in there all night," Tony pointed out, yawning widely. "I vote we go home. He'll call if he needs anything before the morning."

"Good idea," Abby's husky voice interrupted. The Goth rushed into the room with Jimmy Palmer beside her. "But nobody's going home. We're all going to check out this really cool club Jimmy heard about. They're supposed to have an awesome floor show."

Tony groaned. "Not tonight, Abby, I'm exhausted."

"You, mister," she admonished, "are the reason we're going out. All you've done lately is work, get on Gibbs' nerves, harass Ziva and McGee, get on Gibbs' nerves some more, and go home. You need to relax and blow off some steam – trust me, I recognize the signs. We're going to have a good time and celebrate the fact you're back with us and off that stupid boat."

"Ship, Abs. It's a ship. Do I have to?" He was too tired to control the whiny tone in his voice. All he really wanted to do was go home, drink some beer, watch a movie, and fall asleep. Alone.

"Absolutely. I'm giving all of you an hour to go home and change into something appropriate for a hip and trendy club. McGee, take a picture of your outfit and send it to me for prior approval. We'll meet for dinner at Lombardi's then head to the club around 10:00. The show starts at 11:00. Questions?" No one dared pose a question with Abby in drill sergeant mode. "Good. Move out, men!"

They grabbed their things and piled onto the elevator. Tony glared at Palmer who smiled back innocently. Ziva and Abby babbled about clothes that would look good on McGee, who shoved his hands in his pockets. "Nothing outrageous, you two!" he said forcefully, which only made them giggle more.

Tony rubbed his forehead. Maybe he needed to get out with his friends for the night, to try and forget about Jenny, Gibbs, and his screwed up life. He promised himself to do as Abby said, and have a little fun. Hell, if a DiNozzo couldn't have a good time in a bar, the world really must be coming to an end.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs sat on the stool in his basement and drained another glass of bourbon. By the time he left MTAC his team had closed down for the evening, their reports neatly stacked on his desk. He'd made no progress on the boat tonight, his mind continually wandering to Tony, his agent's recent behavior, and Vance's veiled threat.

He had to do something before Tony was gone from NCIS, and him, possibly forever. It would be easy enough to start up the head slaps again; maybe that would be sufficient to get him settled. It wasn't like he disliked the idea of touching Tony throughout the day.

The problem was he liked the idea too much.

Of course he knew Tony was attractive; you'd have to be blind or dead not to notice. It had taken a long time to get used to those full lips, olive complexion, and brilliant green eyes; he'd somehow forced himself to develop an immunity to his senior field agent's appearance.

It hadn't always been easy; in the early days there were moments when Tony's smile would catch him off guard and he would be stunned by the sheer _handsomeness_ of the man. Kate had been affected by it, too. He'd often observed her lose her train of thought during a scolding when Tony would pout, and she'd end up running fingers through her dark hair and giving up. Ziva, of course, had spent half her first year at NCIS staring at Tony like she'd never seen anything of his kind before; he suspected her physical attraction to DiNozzo prompted the bipolar way she treated her partner. She didn't want to be drawn to him, but some days she gave in and let herself get close, while other days she pushed him as far away as possible in order to prove that she could. McGee, straight as an arrow, harbored some jealously toward Tony's looks, yet worked hard to not let that overly influence their relationship. Sometimes McGee controlled it, other times not so much – in the end their friendship won the battle. He honestly admitted surprise that Tony and Abby had never hooked up. Ultimately, they were both subs at heart and he supposed at least Abby understood anything other than friendship would never work out.

And it wasn't like Tony only had a pretty face; his personality created its own web of attractiveness. Sometimes infuriating, more often than not captivating in its complexity. It took effort to see beneath the shiny surface Tony wanted everyone to know. Under the gilded exterior existed a honeycomb of traits, from heart-wrenching insecurity to self-sacrificing loyalty, to unyielding courage. A glimpse of the true Tony; it didn't happen often, but it could take your breath away.

It occurred to him that he hadn't treated Tony any better than Ziva did at times; pulling the younger man in close then shoving him away when the feelings got too intense and uncomfortable. Years of that kind of behavior, on top of the purgatory of being Agent Afloat, had left Tony adrift with no anchor to hold him in place. Tony had a hard time picking out what personality to wear on a good day; it made sense that his recent lack of stability had left him jumping from being a clown one minute to a capable federal agent the next. His partner needed grounding, focus, parameters.

DiNozzo needed Gibbs to get his head out of his own ass and do something about it.

Unfortunately, he didn't know if he could. He kind of felt like the Grinch in that old Christmas cartoon Kelly used to watch; his heart atrophied from years of neglect and disuse. It beat well enough to keep him alive, but not nearly enough to take an emotional risk the equivalent of leaping out of an airplane without a parachute. For Christ's sake, this was _DiNozzo_ he was thinking about, not some damn redhead he could kick to the curb when things got tough. He was selfish enough to always want Tony in his life in some capacity, even if it was limited to the role of teammate and friend.

Gibbs had long ago accepted he was often interested in men; he'd known it even before Shannon entered his life. There had been on and off relationships over the years, never anything particularly serious, and usually centered around his need to be more dominant than he felt comfortable doing with women. Women were for long-term commitments, men were for other pursuits.

Not that he hadn't played with the women, too. Shannon had loved his toppy side, and she had been an exquisite submissive. None of the rest – either man or woman - could hold a candle to her, the way she had battled her own need to take control and in the end been willing to kneel before him in complete and utter devotion. He choked up at the memory, lost for a while in the overwhelming urge to either cry or slam his glass against the wall. He did neither and let the moment pass, as time had taught him to do.

_Tony._ What would DiNozzo look like on the floor in front of him, those generous lips slightly parted and waiting to be either kissed or fucked, the choice completely in his power?

Damn – what was wrong with him? How could he ever justify thinking about Tony this way? There was so much wrong with it; Rule Twelve, the fact Tony saw him as a father figure and not a potential lover, his inability to be with someone without fundamentally hurting the person. He had to get a grip and stop this – now.

He drank a slug of bourbon straight from the bottle and picked up a piece of sandpaper, determined to drive that image of DiNozzo's fuckable mouth completely out of his mind one way or another.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony leaned back against the bar and swirled his electric blue drink, letting the ice cubes clink against the sides of the glass. Abby waved at him from her spot next to Ziva; the Israeli danced sensuously with a tall, swarthy man with dark hair. Both women looked gorgeous – Ziva had selected a backless red leather halter top and sinfully provocative red lycra tights and spiked heels, while Abby had gone for her naughty schoolgirl outfit, pairing tall lace-up boots with a barely there miniskirt and a white button up shirt tied high to show off her flat stomach.

DiNozzo turned to his left and watched McGee and Palmer talking to a pair of pretty girls, one blonde and the other brunette. He chuckled at Probie's ensemble; he'd ended up wearing a tight black t-shirt with a mesh back, a pair of skin-tight jeans, and large black leather boots with the laces undone. At first McGee had been self-conscious, but a couple of drinks loosened him up and he seemed to be having a great time. Palmer swayed to the music, occasionally holding his drink in the air and dancing in circles while the brunette girl traced her fingers across his bare chest and firm abs. Tony still couldn't believe the ME's assistant had removed his shirt and was only wearing a pair of leather pants and a silver chain around his neck. There was a whole more to the shy young man than met the eye.

He hadn't made much of an effort on his own outfit. The comfortable jeans and green button-up would've probably been more appropriate for the office than a D/s bar, but Tony didn't care. He wasn't looking to hook up anyway. The only concession he'd made to the fact this was a club had been unbuttoning his shirt sinfully low and rolling up his sleeves. He did have a reputation to maintain after all.

"Is that drink any good?" the man next to him asked. "I've never had one before." Tony noticed the person at his elbow for the first time; he was middle-aged, tall, and muscle bound, most definitely a former jock and a Dom by the way he carried himself. The guy wasn't bad looking, but Tony had no intention of getting picked up.

"It's not bad," he answered coolly, trying to convey his lack of interest with the uninviting tone.

The stranger smiled and held out his hand. "Steve Carter. I work security at the Smithsonian."

Tony groaned inwardly. He supposed he had to be polite, so he pasted on a smile and shook hands. "Anthony DiNozzo."

"And what is your line of work, Anthony DiNozzo?" the man questioned, sipping his drink and leaning in closer.

God, sometimes Tony hated bar small talk. "I'm a federal agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

The man's eyes grew wide. "Wow, really? That sounds like such a fascinating job. Maybe we could swap stories, although I bet yours are a lot more exciting than mine."

Tony glanced down at his drink. "Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I'm here with some friends and I'm not interested in anything other than hanging out with them tonight. Sorry."

The guy smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it, I understand. Maybe some other time." He made his way back into the crowd, disappearing among the throng of people.

A few minutes later Abby brushed up behind him, breathing hard in his ear. "Come on, Tony, dance with us. You know you've got better moves than all these schmucks."

"Not tonight Abby. I'm not in the mood." He drained the remainder of his blue liquid in one gulp.

She opened her mouth to chastise him when a waiter interrupted them. He held a glass out to Tony. "This drink is for you from the gentleman at the table over there."

Tony and Abby both turned to see an older Asian man sitting at a table across the room; a wiry submissive boy barely out of his teens and dressed in a skimpy leather thong sat docilely at his feet. The man lifted his glass toward Tony and winked. DiNozzo gave a small smile in return and turned away. "That's just creepy," he stated warily.

The waiter laughed. "It happens all the time. He gave me a hundred bucks to bring this to you. Said you were the hottest man he'd seen in a long time."

Tony grinned uncomfortably and took the drink, sitting it on the bar with no intention to taste it. He rolled his eyes at Abby dramatically. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

Before Abby could reply, the music lowered and the lights dimmed. "The show's about to start!" Abby gushed, wrapping her hands around his arms. "Watch it with us, please!"

"I'll catch it from here, Abs. You go get a good spot with Ziva," he said firmly. "Go on, scoot."

She pouted before giving in to him. "You and I are going to have a long talk this weekend – promise me." His best friend held out her pinky to him.

He hooked his pinky around hers and beamed back a genuine smile. "Promise."

Abby kissed his cheek and bounced through the crowd, jostling her way until he saw her take up position beside Ziva. A few feet away Palmer and McGee had also found a place close to the stage area. The music changed, the bass thumping in a slow rhythm when two men strolled into the center of the roped off platform. Tony was tall enough to see most of the presentation despite the swarming masses of people bumping and swaying in front of him. One of the men wore leather chaps and a mask covering the upper half of his face, allowing only his eyes to show. The other man was completely naked. When the masked man sat down in a chair, he dipped out of Tony's field of vision requiring DiNozzo to push forward a little; moving around to get another glimpse he eventually managed to see the naked man draped over his partner's knees. He heard a sharp smack followed by a small moan.

He supposed Abby never specified exactly what kind of show they'd be watching. Curiosity got the better of him and he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the scene playing out in front of the captivated audience. The Dom spanked the sub relentlessly, yet there was something strangely erotic about the exchange. The sub didn't seem to mind; as a matter of fact he appeared to be getting very turned on as evidenced by his straining cock that was trapped between the Dom's legs. The younger man arched higher, as if trying to force even more contact with the hand that had turned his ass from pale cream to flaming red.

Tony swallowed nervously and wondered what it felt like to give up control that way. He couldn't fathom the kind of trust it would require, and he doubted he could ever trust anyone that much. Still, for a split second he imagined himself lying against someone's knees, a calloused hand delivering whatever the Dom thought he needed. The image sent a shiver up his spine.

A person nudged him from behind and he turned quickly to find a man several inches taller than him and sporting about fifty more pounds of muscle smiling down on him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Do you like what you see?"

"It's different," Tony responded noncommittally. There were way too many desperate wanna-be Doms in this place, and it irritated him that they all seemed to identify him as a sub. The crowd roared with appreciation and applauded; Tony turned around to try and find out what he had missed. He experienced a twinge of disappointment when he saw the two men standing together, the Dom holding his sub tightly, caressing the glowing butt with firm yet gentle strokes while he kissed along the younger man's neck in a beautifully intimate gesture.

A hand on his own ass made him nearly jump out of his skin. "What the hell?" he gasped, spinning around again.

Now the man actively pressed up against him. "I can tell you want that; I can give it to you. Come with me, and I'll teach you things you've only dreamed about." The man's eyes were dark and dangerous, his voice low and husky.

"Get your hands off me," Tony growled, forcefully knocking away the hand that had found its way onto his hip. "I don't even know you."

Instead of backing off, the burly man gripped Tony by the arm. "Maybe I don't plan on giving you a choice." He pulled Tony forward, throwing him off-balance as he dragged him in the direction of the door. The guy was unnaturally strong and Tony found it difficult to break free. The stranger surged forward like a Dom doing nothing more than taking charge of an unruly sub, no one giving them a second glance.

_To hell with this,_ Tony decided, adrenaline and anger coursing through him. He was a fucking federal agent, and this piece of shit had picked the wrong guy to try and dominate without permission. Besides, he'd watched Road House with Patrick Swayze enough times to know how to handle this situation. The size differential didn't worry him too much.

With his shoulder lowered, he stopped trying to pull away and instead rushed forward, ramming into the man with a grunt, the two of them flying into the crowd taking several patrons down with them. When Tony rose up, a beefy fist caught him in the jaw, and in between the stars exploding behind his eyeballs, he saw several other punches being thrown by Doms who had inadvertently been bumped by his bone-crunching tackle. Within seconds, he'd lost sight of his assailant as the melee bloomed into an all out bar-fight like a wave crossing the ocean.

Someone wrapped an arm around his neck and Tony flipped the man over his back, the goon landing with a thump on the floor. Before fending off another attacker, Tony fleetingly considered who would take the first opportunity to kill him when this was all over – Abby because he'd ruined her night out or Gibbs because he'd finally managed to ruin the reputation of NCIS.

Either way, he was a dead man.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs lurched from the floor, banging his head on the ribs of the boat where he'd fallen asleep in the sawdust. He cursed and rubbed the small knot on his scalp with one hand, trying to find the annoyingly loud phone with the other. Scrabbling on the counter, he located the small piece of plastic and flipped it open. Calls this time of night were never good – they either had a case or someone was in trouble.

"Yeah," he barked.

"Not even a hello? You really need to work on your manners."

Gibbs pushed up off the floor, ignoring the creak in his knee. "What do you want, Tobias?"

"Something went down at "The Cage" tonight; LEO's got called in. I thought you might want to go with me to check it out."

"Now why would I do that?" The NCIS agent stroked his haggard face and kicked the empty bottle of bourbon sending it spinning across the floor. A few hours had passed since he finished it off, but he didn't think it had been long enough for him to drive. "You know I don't get involved with the scene anymore."

Fornell grunted through the phone. "This isn't a social call and I'm already on my way to your place. You're definitely going to want to be around for this – I think at least one of the participants belongs to you."

"What?" Gibbs asked, pausing as he reached the first floor of his house.

"The club is under surveillance because of a case we're working; I heard the call go out and DiNutso's name got mentioned when they ran his i.d.," Fornell explained smoothly with just the smallest hint of goading. "I figured if your boy's in trouble you'd want to be there."

"Fuck." Gibbs grabbed his jacket and shoved a cap on his head. Would it be too much to ask that Tony go twenty-four hours without causing some kind of mayhem? In all the years they'd worked together, Tony had seldom been this much of a problem.

"Well put, Jethro. Now get your ass in the car."

When Gibbs stepped outside, Fornell was already parked in the driveway. As usual, he didn't bother to lock the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Notes: Thanks so much for your positive support! As a first time slash writer who decided to go with a BDSM theme, I admit to a bad case of nerves. I wasn't even sure I should post on this site; but so far you guys have been great and I really appreciate it._**

**_These past two chapters have been kind of short for me, but I couldn't find good places to end them, which is why I've posted it all so quickly. There's a pretty big plot shift next chapter, and then it's fairly intense from there to the end._**

**_If you continue to enjoy the story, I look forward to hearing from you! Postive feedback helps with the nerves!_**

**_WARNING: SLASH and BDSM; we haven't gotten too deep into these topics so far, but I promise, by Chapter 5 you might be offended if you do not approve of these themes. If you are concerned, please do not read this story._**

Red and blue lights created a strobe effect on the side of the building; Tony repositioned himself on the hard leather seat of the cruiser. Finding a comfortable position proved difficult with his hands cuffed behind his back. He allowed the events taking place outside the window of the locked door to distract him from his bruised body and worried mind. He had no doubt that once Gibbs got involved his life expectancy would decrease significantly.

Ziva, long curls flying in a disheveled maze above her head, gestured wildly at the car where he had been stowed, her lips moving at a clip too fast to read from this distance. McGee, arms folded across his ripped shirt and sporting a purple jaw, nodded in agreement with whatever the Israeli said. Abby fiercely pointed her finger at the officer's chest and Palmer, broken glasses barely perched on his nose, kept stealing glances at Tony from the corner of his eye.

Never let it be said that when things got tough the team didn't stand up for one another; they had each jumped into the brawl without any questions, coming to his defense before he even had a chance to explain what set off the chain of disastrous events. Granted, he'd received looks from each of them that promised there would be thorough interrogations to come, but that was to be expected when he was at the center of a situation like this one. The inside of the club had been smashed to pieces and it appeared the blame was getting placed entirely on his shoulders.

The LEO's refused to listen when he did his best to tell them about trying to get away from the overly aggressive Dom and that his safety had been threatened. Everyone was far more interested in finding a scapegoat for the destruction than discovering the truth. Seconds after he'd been identified as the instigator he found himself slammed down on the hood of the car with silver bracelets locked on his wrists.

Only one thing could make this horrible night any worse. Abby's luminous eyes grew wider indicating when the worst finally arrived. One by one the agents stopped speaking; the LEO took on a straight-backed posture as if preparing to wade into battle.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs, dressed in an NCIS windbreaker, ballcap, and faded jeans, shoved into the knot of people, his icy eyes casting disapprovingly over the attire of his team, stopping at the shirtless Jimmy Palmer who blushed and dropped his head in shame. Abby started talking again, her finger now pointing at the police car – Tony slunk down in an effort to possibly disappear. Gibbs turned his head and locked gazes with his senior field agent; DiNozzo gave him a repentant grin and a shrug. His campaign to improve Gibbs' opinion of him had ended in a spectacularly epic failure.

Fornell walked up to the group. _What's he doing here? _Tony wondered. The LEO must have decided it was time to take the circumstances in hand, since now he started talking. The conversation went on for several minutes, until Gibbs moved within inches of the officer's face wearing the expression of extreme irritation that could intimidate the most seasoned individual. Tony watched the cop as he started to break, shifting from foot to foot, sweating, and then finally nodding his agreement before heading toward the cruiser. Gibbs followed behind, his face set in a mask of grim displeasure.

Tony had only seconds to prepare himself before he was pulled out of the car and the handcuffs removed. He rubbed his wrists in an attempt to restore circulation. "Thanks. I can't say it's been fun."

The officer grunted. "Thank him." He jerked his head at Gibbs. "Next time, keep your subordinates on a tighter leash, Gunny," he admonished the lead agent. Gibbs didn't reply, waiting for the man to leave.

"How'd you find out about this so fast? Did Abby call you?" Tony asked once they were alone.

"You don't get to ask questions, DiNozzo, you get to answer them, starting with what the hell got you into this mess."

Tony frowned, unsure if he could prevent the ass ripping Gibbs had in store. "It wasn't my fault, I swear." Fornell silently joined them, his beady eyes cutting into Tony. Neither man appeared happy to be out in the chilly wee hours of the morning regardless of the reason. "What's the FBI doing here?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"Don't change the subject, DiNozzo; I could have let you spend the night in a cell with the rest of the degenerates and drunks. Explain. _Now_."

DiNozzo sighed and rubbed his wrists again; he had no choice in the matter so he decided to get it over with. How mad could Gibbs be once he heard the truth? "Some guy tried to force me outside with him. Said a bunch of crazy shit about showing me what a true Dom could do. He was as big as a tree, Boss, and I couldn't let him take me out of the club, so I improvised in order to get away from him. You know, like Patrick Swayze in Road House?" Gibbs didn't respond; Tony ran a hand through his messy hair. "I did what I had to do." He set his jaw defiantly; this was definitely not his fault and he had no intention of letting it play out that way.

"Can you identify this Dom?" Fornell asked, showing an unusual interest in identifying Tony's attacker. "Maybe pick him out of a lineup?"

"Well, yeah," Tony said, unsure why Fornell was so intrigued. "Do you mind telling me why the FBI is so concerned about all of this?" Gibbs' face was tight, and by the intent way he watched his friend he didn't seem to know what Fornell was digging for either.

"I'll read you guys in after I interview the staff. Jethro, could you pull the security tapes?" Fornell requested, his gaze turning back toward the building. "We've been waiting months for a break in the case connected to this club and I don't want to risk missing anything. The Dom who went after Tony might be the guy I've been looking for."

For a second, Tony wasn't certain what Gibbs' answer was going to be as the NCIS agent evaluated Fornell. Clearly there was something bigger going on here than a random bar fight. For his part, Fornell nearly danced with nervous excitement, ready to pounce on a potential lead. Gibbs eventually relaxed his posture. "Alright, but I expect a complete briefing at NCIS as soon as you have everything you can collect."

"Thanks, Jethro," the older man expressed gratefully before immediately returning to the cordoned off area, his trench coat flapping behind him.

Tony moved to follow.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs asked, placing a hand on Tony's arm to stop him.

"To help figure out what the hell has Fornell's panties in a knot. I still don't get it." Tony glared at the hand securely wrapped around his arm, not sure if this physical contact could replace a head slap or not.

Gibbs abruptly dropped his hand when he noticed Tony staring at it. "Hey, Fornell," he yelled over to the FBI agent who was standing a few feet away. "I need your keys."

Fornell shrugged, fished in his pocket and tossed a set of keys, which Gibbs easily caught with one hand and passed to DiNozzo. "You go sit in Fornell's car and stay out of the way. I'll deal with you at the office."

Tony looked at the keys, at Fornell, then at Gibbs. "You're kidding me, right? Are you giving me a time-out, or what? I mean, come on, this really wasn't my fault." He accepted responsibility for a lot of stuff, but blaming him for this was totally unfair.

Gibbs simply stared at him mute and stone-faced. Finally Fornell spoke up. "I don't think he's kidding, DiNutso. You'd better do what he says before the vein that's pulsing on the side of his head explodes."

"Fine," Tony replied, providing his own arctic glare at Gibbs; he had learned from the master after all. Screw it. Trying to please Gibbs right now was a hopeless task. He sulked over to the car and jerked the door open. Every move he made with Gibbs turned into a big pile of shit, and he was about ready to stop trying.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Fornell placed a file on the table; Gibbs opened it and started flipping through the documents. "Over the last twelve months at least eight men have disappeared from the DC area – all of them were in some way connected with masculine jobs, including police officers, firemen, federal agents, and military personnel. An FBI agent disappeared several months ago, and a marine went missing about a week ago. All of the missing individuals are between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five, all are in excellent physical condition, and all could be classified as rather…" the agent paused, searching for the right word, while Gibbs perused photographs of ruggedly attractive men, "….handsome." He grinned sheepishly when Gibbs made a grunting noise. "That's not my assessment, but the declaration of all the females – and a few males - who have skimmed through the pictures."

"So we've got a bunch of missing guys who could've been male models if they hadn't decided to go into some branch of the military or law enforcement instead." Gibbs summarized. "Guess we're safe," he smirked at Fornell.

"Speak for yourself," the other man countered with a cocky smile, winking at his partner who had joined them at the Navy Yard to update Gibbs and his team on the case.

Ron Sacks snorted loudly and interjected. "We noticed the pattern while investigating the disappearance of FBI Agent Jeremy Davis, reported missing by his mother approximately two months ago. When we extended the search parameters the other potential victims emerged, which is why we're asking NCIS to assist in the investigation."

Gibbs stopped at the picture of a chisel-jawed marine. "I heard about this case; it was assigned to another team; so far they haven't found any leads."

Fornell shrugged. "I want your team on it now, so I'll bring you up to speed on what we've got. All the missing men have one thing in common – at one time or other each of them frequented local clubs that cater to a specific clientele." He pointed at a picture of the nondescript establishment that had been the center of tonight's attention. "It took a while to corroborate they were all patrons of these places. Most of the establishments have been less than cooperative when questioned, indicating their clients like privacy and would not want their names released. We dug around a lot to substantiate the links between the men and these bars."

Gibbs gave Fornell a meaningful stare. "The Cage" is a pretty popular place with the Dominant/submissive scene, or so I've heard."

"Yeah, I know," Fornell replied cryptically. "What do you think your team was doing there tonight? Research?"

"They're all fascinated with that Sawyer guy; well, all of them except DiNozzo. I don't know what the hell he was doing there." The NCIS agent tapped his fingers on the table. "I take it the disappearances are linked to the D/s scene?"

"All the men who have disappeared are into that lifestyle," Sacks confirmed. "This particular club opened well before the Sawyer movement and it caters to a rougher crowd. The people who go there aren't playing around with some new fad they saw on a talk show, they are seriously into the entire BDSM subculture. And as I said before, each man went to a club like this one at some point prior to his disappearance. You can draw your own conclusions."

Gibbs pursed his lips and locked gazes with Fornell. "So what do you propose to do now?"

Fornell cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "First we need to check out the guy who tried to move on DiNozzo; he's a definite person of interest. If that doesn't pan out, I'm thinking we need to send someone in undercover to one of the other clubs. Get some eyes and ears on the inside."

There was dead silence while Gibbs turned inanimate as a statue. "Got someone in mind?" he finally asked. Only one individual he knew came close to the description of the victims.

There was a slight lift to Fornell's chin. "I was thinking DiNutso would be perfect. Tonight was proof of that."

"No," Gibbs responded swiftly.

"Why not? You're always telling me what a great agent he is and your boy fits the profile to a tee. He's the best choice for this assignment if we need to continue."

Gibbs thinned his lips. "He's too old; Tony's at least three years over the age range of any of the victims."

Sacks laughed. "Are you serious? DiNozzo could easily pass for thirty-two or thirty-three and he's good-looking enough. Give him a fake id and I don't believe age will be an issue."

Gibbs' stare turned glacial. "I'm assuming these men were all submissive in nature. You plan on sending Tony in there to act like a sub?"

Now it was Fornell's turn to laugh. "You really think that's going to be a problem? Come on, Gibbs, any Dom worth his salt can figure out that DiNozzo's a sub in about sixty seconds flat. It won't take much acting for him to pull this off."

"That doesn't mean he knows how to behave like a sub! Did you see the damage to the inside of that club? All because some Dom tried to manhandle him?" Gibbs raised his voice and leaned toward his friend. "Trust me, I'm with him nearly every damn day and he has no clue how to submit to someone! They'll realize he's a fake in less than an hour, kick him out on his ass, and we'll never find those men. I don't think we want our investigation to hinge on whether or not DiNozzo can get on his knees for a Dom!"

Fornell leaned back in his chair and scratched the stubble on his chin. "You're being unreasonable, Gibbs."

"Yeah, so what's new? The answer is no and that's final. Why don't you send your own wonderboy in?" He jerked his chin at Sacks.

"Because Sacks is a Dom and shit at undercover work. He'd mouth off to somebody and the op would be dead on arrival. Your boy's better. He was on his own time tonight; he'll behave better if he's there for the job."

"Hey!" Sacks protested Fornell's description of him. "I can do this if I have to. You don't need DiNozzo!"

Fornell growled impatiently. "Go wait in the hall. I'll be out in a minute."

Sacks pushed his chair back with a thump and slammed the door behind him.

"See what I mean? No anger management," Fornell groused. He studied his friend's face. "What's going on here, Gibbs? DiNozzo's good, even if I won't admit it to him; he won't have a problem carrying this out. I don't understand your opposition."

Gibbs folded his arms. "You said it yourself, Tobias. Any Dom who gets a glimpse of Tony is going to feel it's his duty to put DiNozzo in his place. If you hadn't noticed, Tony isn't exactly the poster boy for proper submissive behavior even if you think he can be. He could get himself hurt and at the same time destroy any chance we have at finding out what's going on. He's lucky tonight ended with only a few bruises."

The balding man grunted. "We'll keep watch over him, tell him what to do. You're more than just worried about whether someone's going to get a little rough with him…." His voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide. "Holy crap, Gibbs. You don't want him in there because you're jealous! You don't want anyone else to get their hands on him until you've had a chance. Damnit, how could I have not noticed this before?"

"Listen, Fornell, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but that's not it," Gibbs said resolutely, placing his hands flat on the table. _I'm not that easy to read._

"It's not? You and I've been around the scene for a long time, Jethro – we were going to that bar years before everyone else caught on to it. If you'd done a better job at training Diane I might not have had so many problems with her. I get it though, DiNozzo's a fine looking man – a little annoying for my tastes, but I can definitely see the attraction."

"I am not attracted to DiNozzo!" Gibbs practically shouted as he rose to his feet.

The outburst didn't affect Fornell, who nodded knowingly despite the protest. "You keep telling yourself that, Jethro. It's a shame neither one of you is smart enough to figure this out on your own, cause now that I'm thinking about it that's the only reason I can find for DiNozzo sticking around you for so long. It's definitely a mutual attraction."

Gibbs pulled Fornell up by the shirt collar. "You've crossed the line, old friend."

The FBI agent snorted. "Calm down, Gibbs. I won't say anything to him." He patted Gibbs on the cheek. "You're secret's safe with me. Now quit charging around here like a bull in heat and think about my idea with your head and not your…well, you know." Fornell's eyes shined brightly and he gave Gibbs' crotch an exaggerated stare. Tobias gingerly removed Gibbs' hand from his shirt and walked out of the room, leaving Gibbs standing alone, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

He and Fornell might go back a long way, but that gave his friend no right to allude to such insane notions. Tony was his subordinate and he was concerned for his safety. That was all. Rule Twelve existed for a reason, making DiNozzo strictly off limits, and he wasn't going to bend that rule just because Tobias Fornell suddenly decided to play matchmaker. Besides, he knew Tony was a chronic womanizer and had never looked at him that way, so the entire scenario was nonsense, his own occasional fantasies be damned.

Gibbs stalked out of the conference room in the direction of the bullpen. Their latest case was essentially closed, so he'd start the team investigating the Dom who'd come on to Tony – if this man proved to be involved, it could end the case quickly before he had to consider sending anyone, especially DiNozzo, in undercover.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee clicked the button on the remote and the video on the screen came to life; a grainy image of the bar's interior showed Tony walk to the edge of the line of people staring at the middle of the room where Gibbs knew the show was taking place. He'd been to this particular club more than a few times himself, so the layout wasn't unknown to him. The older man tried to ignore the look of rapt fascination crossing Tony's expressive features – his agent was obviously enraptured by the public spanking as evidenced by the way his eyes widened and he licked his lips. Gibbs doubted the younger man had any idea how attractive the play of emotions made him. DiNozzo tiptoed and peered around the patrons blocking his view. A man moved in behind him, lewdly gazing up and down his body. The man reached out a hand and grasped Tony on the butt.

"Subtle," Ziva commented, tugging her leather top down. Gibbs hadn't allowed them time to change clothes figuring it would be a good way to teach them a lesson about proper attire even when off the job. Ziva scanned the empty bullpen for any witnesses to her humiliation. Fortunately for her it was still way too early for anyone else to be around.

Gibbs' attention went back to the video; his hand clenched tightly around his coffee cup when he saw Tony's ass being groped; his blood boiled at the violation. DiNozzo's image turned around to say something to the man. A part of him wondered why Tony hadn't immediately punched the piece of slime in the nose. Another part hoped he'd get the chance to do it himself. He chose not to reflect on his reaction too much, since a small voice in his head warned him his response wasn't entirely professional and that Fornell might have been on to something earlier. He clamped down on his emotional turmoil like a vice grip.

The real DiNozzo crunched an aspirin and readjusted the icepack on the back of his head. Gibbs spared him a glance, accepting Ducky's determination that Tony's injuries were minor and didn't require medical treatment beyond over the counter medication, ice, and a full night's sleep. "This is where the good part starts," the battered agent informed them wearily.

The man grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him several feet through the bar before Tony rammed him and within seconds the entire club seemed to be involved in the altercation. Someone hit Tony-on-the-screen over the head with a bottle and Tony-in-real-life groaned in sympathy, chewing another aspirin. The Dom that started it all snuck toward the door, his face in clear view of the camera. McGee paused on his image.

Fornell cleared his throat. "His name is Alex Phillips and he works as a computer tech for the Pentagon. He's been arrested multiple times for domestic violence. The bartender at the club said he comes in several nights a week and is well known for being way too aggressive with subs. They've received a lot of complaints about him," the FBI agent reported. "Sounds like a possible suspect."

"Suspect for what?" McGee asked, trying to remain professional despite his torn shirt and the tight jeans that had him squirming every few seconds to readjust himself. "You still haven't explained what you're looking for."

"We're looking for eight missing law enforcement personnel, including a marine and a federal agent. They all vanished after visiting this particular club and others like it in the DC area," Gibbs stated evenly. "Looks as if DiNozzo was being mauled by a potential kidnapper."

Tony's head popped up; he screwed his eyes shut for a second following the movement, re-opening them slowly. "You think the guy who tried to grab me might be the perp?"

"It's possible," Fornell confirmed. "You fit the profile of the other victims and so far we have nothing better to go on." The FBI agent snagged a folder off Gibbs' desk and handed it to Tony, who scanned through the photographs quickly. "Guess we lucked out that you decided to party there tonight." Fornell smirked at Gibbs, whose face pinched like he'd just sucked on a lemon.

Tony stood, continuing to press the icepack to the back of his head. "So I just played bait for a serial kidnapper and didn't even know it? Cool."

"Cool?" Gibbs' voice could have cut steel. "Are you serious? You actually think this was _cool_? You're fortunate that LEO was a former marine willing to do a favor for an ex-gunny so you didn't end up getting charged with anything. As it is, NCIS is going to have to pay for the damages." Gibbs frowned, another thought occurring to him. "Better hope Vance doesn't take it out of your paycheck or send you off to the field office in Wichita."

Tony's mouth dropped open and he stammered in disbelief. "You…you saw the damn video! I didn't have a choice!" He winced at the sound of his raised voice. "Would you rather I'd been abducted?"

Gibbs moved into his personal space. He might not be willing to head slap the younger man right now, but that didn't mean he was going to let him rant and rave without any consequences. His second-in-command obviously had no clue that this could be the ticket Vance needed to get rid of him. The knowledge that Tony might have sealed his own fate sent him over the edge. "I'd rather you weren't there at all! What were you doing at a D/s club anyway? I thought you didn't buy into all that shit!"

"I can go where I want; the last time I checked I didn't have to ask anyone for permission. So I guess it's none of your damn business why I was there," Tony answered angrily, pulling himself to his full height and refusing to take a step backward even though Gibbs was basically pressed up against him. The two men stared each other down, neither willing to back off first. Tension filled the air around them, everyone afraid to breathe or move.

Abby finally spoke from the spot on the spare desk where she had been sitting quietly. "Gibbs, Tony didn't want to go out tonight – I talked him into it. So you shouldn't be mad at him, you should be mad at me."

The head of the Major Crimes Response Team ran a hand through his silver hair and the lines on his face softened slightly when he turned to face his favorite scientist. Abby wrung her hands and bit her ruby red lip. "Sorry," she whispered apologetically, barely glancing up at him through her eyelashes.

Gibbs huffed air out his nose. His entire team had lost their minds, but he admired that Abby was ready to take the brunt of his ire for her friend. "New rule. No going clubbing on school nights. You got it?" No one answered. "I asked if you got it?" he repeated tersely.

There were mumbled answers of, "Yeah, Boss." Tony simply folded his arms and ground his teeth angrily.

"Palmer!" Gibbs snapped, ignoring his senior field agent's desultory expression. He'd address Tony's issues later in private; whatever was going on with DiNozzo had reached the point of no return and needed to be resolved before anything else occurred. He didn't intend to lose Tony as a member of his team, or as a friend, and it was past time to do something about it. "That means you, too!"

The shirtless young man slowly emerged from where he'd been sitting behind a partition trying to go unnoticed. "Ok, Gibbs. I understand."

"Good. Now let's go interview this jerk."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Remember me?" Tony asked with a bright smile when Alex Phillips opened the door of his apartment. The man gasped in surprise and tried to slam the door shut, but Tony had already lodged his foot inside. He shoved the door open, forcing his way past the muscular computer geek. Gibbs and Fornell followed.

"What are you doing here?" Phillips demanded, trying to recover from his shock. "You have no right to be in my home."

"And I thought you'd be happy to see me," Tony chided, taking long strides into the center of the room. Fornell perched on the edge of the sofa and Gibbs leaned nonchalantly against a wall. "This rather unpleasant gentleman is NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and he's accompanied by the less than cheerful FBI Agent Tobias Fornell. I guess I should introduce myself, too, since you were too busy last night making an acquaintance with my ass to find out my name. I'm Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. My friends and I would like to ask you a few questions."

Phillips shuffled his feet. "I didn't hit anyone," he blurted out. "I left as soon as the fight started. You can't blame that on me."

Fornell looked at his fingernails. "I don't want to know about the fight – the video clearly shows exactly what led to that event as well as your involvement. I want to know why you thought it was a good idea to try and force Agent DiNozzo to leave with you."

Gibbs left his position and wandered around the living room. He opened a drawer on an armoire and lifted out a whip, a paddle, a gag, and a flogger with spiky barbs on it. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Hey, leave that stuff alone! I didn't give you permission to go through my things. Where's your warrant?" Phillips voice increased in pitch and sweat beaded on his upper lip.

"This is just a friendly chat; you invited us in, right? I mean, come on, you wanted to get to know me better," Tony said casually, trying to keep the suspect off-kilter. "So here I am, trying to take our relationship to the next level."

The man rubbed his forehead and laughed nervously. "Ok, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were a Fed! You were just so into the spanking scene, I wanted to help you out, help you relax some." Alex's face turned pink and he breathed more quickly, the memory apparently arousing him. He closed his eyes for a second. "Most subs like a firm Dom who won't take no for an answer."

"Geez! There it is with the sub thing again. What makes you think I'm a sub anyway?" Tony demanded, raising his hands in exasperation. He was getting sick of the label when he didn't agree with it himself.

Gibbs shook his head. "Drop it, DiNozzo." He stared at Phillips. "What did you plan to do once you got him out of the club? The same thing you did with all the other missing men?"

Phillips gawked, blinking rapidly. "What? Missing men? I don't even know what you're talking about. I…." He hesitated, but after a moment continued, his eyes shifting to rest intently on Tony. "I just wanted to show him what a real spanking could feel like." His mouth curled into a twisted smile and his breathing slowed. "You would've liked it, I promise. I've been told I'm very good." He walked closer to Tony, reaching out a hand causing Tony to involuntarily back away, startled by the lustful look in the man's eyes.

In a heartbeat Phillip's hand was shoved behind his back. "Hey!" he protested, trying to wriggle out of the tight grip the former gunnery sergeant had on his wrist and elbow which had been bent into an unnatural angle. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Who told you it was ok to touch subs without permission? Someone needs to teach you a lesson or two," Gibbs growled menacingly, wrenching the man's arm up higher until he screeched. Tony stared dumbly, not sure what had prompted Gibbs to react this way – if the former marine didn't stop, Phillips' arm would pop out of the socket. The suspect lifted onto his toes and mewled in agony.

"Stop," he begged. "Stop before you break my arm!"

"Let him go, Boss," Tony urged, confused. He'd never seen Gibbs get this physical with a suspect. The guy hadn't even put a finger on him and besides he was perfectly capable of handling himself. He didn't need Gibbs jumping in like he was some sort of damsel in distress.

"Calm down, Jethro," Fornell suggested, as he picked up a stack of photographs off a table, holding the glossy pictures so Gibbs and Tony could see them. The images were of a variety of men and taken from a distance, obviously without the subject's knowledge. The top one displayed Tony leaning against the bar the previous night. "I think we have enough to take him in for questioning anyway."

Gibbs cuffed Phillips, who squealed indignantly. "Not so tight, you're hurting me!"

The lead agent smiled a little, apparently pleased with that piece of information. "It's idiots like you who give Doms a bad name." He manhandled the guy out the door. "DiNozzo, call Ziva and McGee and get them over here to process this place."

Tony quickly did as directed, before taking a few steps and then hesitating awkwardly. "What about me?" he asked, unsure if he should stay and help process or go with Gibbs and Fornell to interrogate Phillips. He hadn't been able to get a handle on Gibbs' current mood, so anything was possible.

Gibbs barely spared him a glance. "You're coming with us," he called over his shoulder while he walked the grumbling Phillips to the car.

Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes, his body reminding him it had been nearly forty-eight hours since he'd gotten any sleep. His head hadn't quit pounding since the fight and the bruises across his mid-section and back ached dully. He wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower and to crawl under his covers, not an afternoon spent at the mercy of the increasingly mercurial and possibly bipolar Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Fornell stood close when he opened his eyes. "I don't think you're getting out of his sight anytime soon, DiNozzo." The FBI agent laughed at his own private joke, although Tony wasn't sure what he found so funny. "I'm not sure if that's good or bad for you."

Tony mustered up a tired smirk. There wasn't much use for him to say anything, since he agreed with Fornell that it was a toss-up as to whether Gibbs was going to baby him one minute or fire him the next. Everything about their interaction had acquired a schizophrenic quality. He'd been a connoisseur of Gibbs' behavior for years, studying the man, trying to understand him. Tidbits along the way had proved enlightening, from finding out about Shannon and Kelly to meeting Mike Franks, and finally discovering his affair with Jenny. However the last few weeks Gibbs had been – strange, different – even more so the past two days. Tony struggled to get his head around it. It was as if Gibbs didn't trust him enough to be alone for five minutes.

The conclusion he reached didn't make him feel any better. Gibbs had tolerated him longer than anyone else, and he could see through Tony like a set of bones exposed on an x-ray. The blue-eyed agent knew that sending Tony away as Agent Afloat had nearly killed him, and that firing or transferring him off the team would be devastating. So Gibbs let him hang on even though everybody knew it was time for him to go. Hell, even Jenny had tried to push him to move on and he had refused to take the opportunity she had presented on a silver platter.

Obviously, Gibbs didn't want him on the team anymore, but was unwilling or unable to tell him. It was time for Tony to face the truth, and make the decision to leave on his own. It would rip him apart, yet the option of staying while Gibbs treated him like a pariah one minute and an incompetent moron the next – well, that wasn't a choice at all. Spending every day knowing Gibbs was only keeping him around out of obligation was a fate he couldn't endure.

His transfer request would be on Vance's desk by the end of the day. It might not make him happy, but for everyone else it should be a relief.

Especially Gibbs.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Notes: Surprise! I got around to posting this sooner than I thought. I appreciate all your support, and have tried to reply to everyone personally. If I haven't gotten to you yet, I will! I really look forward to all your comments.**_

_**A friendly reminder; this is BDSM, slash, hurt-comfort and angst. If you aren't interested in those topics, this story is not for you, so don't read it!**_

Alex Phillips nearly fell out of the steel chair into the floor when the door banged open; Gibbs stalked in, dropped a file on the table and sat down, crossing his legs. Fornell followed, scraping another chair loudly across the floor before straddling it backwards.

Gibbs flipped a folder open and removed picture after picture, laying them across the table in front of the man, who shifted slightly and scratched the side of his face. "Tell us what happened to them," Gibbs demanded calmly.

Phillips' trembling fingers moved the pictures around so he could look at them better. "I don't know these men." Gibbs shook his head in disbelief and sighed dramatically. "Honestly, I've never seen them before," their suspect reiterated. "Check the pictures you took from my apartment – they aren't the same men."

Fornell tilted his chair closer. "You expect us to believe that you had nothing to do with these men disappearing? After you tried to kidnap Agent DiNozzo and then we find a stack of clandestine photos in your possession? You're going to have to do better than that lame story."

"I wasn't trying to kidnap anybody! I just wanted to….you know, play with him a little," Phillips smiled eerily. "You're both Doms, you understand. I would've let him go if he'd told me no."

The NCIS agent's blue eyes flashed. "He did tell you no," Gibbs growled.

People like this man made him sick. Phillips thought a sub deserved whatever he wanted to give out whether the other person was interested or not. The thing with Dr. Sawyer just made it all that much worse, now every idiot off the street wanted to play like a top, with absolutely no clue how to do it. Even though slavery was still illegal, a lot of novice Doms didn't understand that being submissive wasn't synonymous with giving up complete control.

The idea of Phillips doing anything with DiNozzo was repulsive. How could Tony be so oblivious to his affect on Doms? Abby and McGee were both subs, but somehow they didn't seem as vulnerable as Tony - there was a damaged quality to his senior field agent that hadn't been there before his time as Agent Afloat. A protective surge swelled up in Gibbs that he hadn't experienced in years. He wanted to grab this smug bastard and pound his face into the metal table for even considering putting his dirty hands on Tony. _Without asking_ _him._ He felt eyes on him and turned to find Fornell staring. Gibbs forced himself to focus, to remember this was a case and not personal.

"You work at the Pentagon; you have high-level computer access. It wouldn't be difficult to track these men, find out about their law enforcement backgrounds. You have several incidents of domestic abuse and restraining orders already in your file." Gibbs scanned a document and looked up. "Your apartment is being torn apart as we speak. If there's any evidence to connect you to these men, we'll find it. Give us the details now and it will go a lot easier for you."

The suspect arrogantly flexed his arms and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "That's the best news I've heard so far; I might be an asshole but I'm not stupid. Search all you want, there's nothing to find, except for maybe a few more pictures of your boy toy agent that I took last night. He really does have a mighty fine ass. So tell me, do you two share him? Cause if you do, I'd really like to watch."

Gibbs uncrossed his legs and leaned threateningly across the table. Fornell laid a hand on his arm. "It's not worth it, Jethro. Don't let him bait you."

Gibbs looked at Fornell then stood up and walked behind Phillips, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "You're a pathetic wanna be Dom who doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a sub. When I find a way to throw you in jail, we'll see what the other boys think about _your_ sweet ass. I might even come by and watch them show you how much they like it." Gibbs smiled pleasantly and gripped the suspect's shoulder firmly.

Phillips stared at the hand digging into his skin, his posture sagging. "Get your fucking hands off me - I want a lawyer."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Fornell stepped in front of Gibbs, preventing him from storming down the hall. "You've got to get yourself under control, Jethro. I didn't mean to throw you so off balance by pointing out the thing you have for DiNozzo. Forget I ever mentioned it and get back to the work obsessed bastard I know and love who only thinks about the case and nothing else."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "First of all, there is no _thing_ I have for DiNozzo, got that Fornell? I don't like any Dom who tries to take advantage of subs, and you know that. So quit trying to make this about Tony, ok? Hell, according to DiNozzo, he isn't even a sub anyway so it doesn't matter." In his heart, Gibbs acknowledged the argument was less than honest, but he wasn't prepared to bring himself to admit anything to the FBI agent. Even if he did have feelings for Tony, they sure as hell weren't Fornell's business.

This kind of complication was exactly why he'd created Rule Twelve to begin with, he reminded himself.

The FBI agent put his hands up in mock surrender. "You got it. We'll simply ignore the fact that every time Phillips even mentions Tony you get some kind of crazy look in your eyes and for a second I thought I was going to have to pry your fingers out of his shoulder. Personally, I vote you go order DiNozzo into a conference room and fuck his brains out so you can both stop thinking with your dicks and start thinking with other parts of your anatomy that would do a better job at solving this case."

Gibbs' phone rang before he could reply, but it didn't stop him from viciously glaring at his colleague. "Yeah. You've checked everything? Alright, come on back." He stuffed the phone in his pocket. "Nothing at the apartment directly ties Phillips to any of the missing individuals. They're bringing in his laptop to see if McGee can find anything on the hard drive. It's possible this guy isn't our perp."

"Great," Fornell banged a fist into the wall. "If that's true we're back to square one. No motive, no leads, nada. These victims didn't disappear into thin air. They're all good men and deserve better than this." He looked down at his feet. "How can I face their families and admit we never found a damn thing?"

Gibbs patted his friend on the back, commiserating with his frustration. "We'll catch a break, Tobias. We won't give up until we do. That's something else you love about me – I never give up and neither will you."

Fornell grinned appreciatively. "You know, Diane would probably disagree about us not giving up. We both ran away from her at the first chance."

"Shit, Fornell," Gibbs gave him a half-smile. "No one said we had to be martyrs."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony slowly walked down the sidewalk sipping his hazelnut double-shot espresso hoping the extra caffeine would be enough to get him through the rest of the day. He felt like crap, between the headache and lack of sleep; it was amazing he was even still awake at this point. There hadn't even been an opportunity for a nap at his desk.

A couple strolled past, a Dom dressed in a perfectly tailored suit holding a leather leash while his collared sub, also dressed in a three-piece suit, chatted easily at his side. They appeared content and happy. It struck Tony as completely ironic that by embracing such extreme roles so many partners had found a way to make their relationships work. He tamped down the confusing hint of jealousy blossoming in his stomach. He wasn't a sub, no matter what everyone else seemed to think, and he definitely wasn't a Dom. Any relationship involving those identifications would never work out for him.

Over the years Abby had diligently tried to convince him that the roles were cathartic, ending disagreements before they began because there was no more tension created by both parties trying to be in control. The Dom received satisfaction from figuring out the best way to take care of his partner's needs, and the sub actually did the same thing, just through submission instead of domination. It was yin and yang, sweet and sour, salt and pepper – two diametrically opposed pieces that complimented each other perfectly.

In Tony's experience, nothing like that existed and searching for it amounted to a waste of time. He hadn't told Abby that, unwilling to dash the hopes and dreams of his best friend who still firmly believed in romance, life partners, and probably leprechauns at the end of rainbows.

He entered the building, nodded at the security guards as he passed through the metal detector and caught the elevator. When he arrived at the bullpen, Gibbs was stomping around in a semi-rage. "What now?" he mumbled, stopping at the edge of his desk trying to gauge the current mood of his boss.

"Where the hell have you been?" the lead agent asked when his hard blue eyes found Tony standing bewildered at his desk.

"I went to get coffee," he explained, pretty certain he knew what had stoked Gibbs' rage this time. The last he'd heard, getting coffee wasn't a crime, but it was if your boss didn't think you could walk across the street by yourself. Considering Gibbs' temperament, further elaboration was probably useless, but he decided to make one last attempt at justifying his behavior. "What's wrong? Did you want some? I would've picked up a couple for you guys but I didn't know how long you'd be in interrogation and it seemed stupid to let it get cold. I'll go back out…." He turned toward the elevator but Gibbs grabbed his arm. Tony glanced down as the coffee sloshed over the edge of the cup, the hot liquid running over his hand and onto the floor.

"What's wrong is that you left your cell on your desk." Gibbs picked up the small piece of plastic and threw it into the trash with an impressive clatter. "If you can't remember to take it with you I guess you don't need one anyway. No one knew where you went and you were unreachable. Do those rules you memorized mean anything to you?"

Tony peered into the can at the broken phone, thoroughly convinced that Gibbs had lost his mind. "Sorry, Boss, I'm just really tired and I guess I didn't realize I left it. It won't happen again." _Cause I'll be gone, _he added to himself. He used two fingers to pick up the phone and assessed the dangling parts and wires before dropping it back into the trash with a thud. "I didn't think you needed to keep tabs on me that much." He met Gibbs' gaze with an unwavering one of his own.

Gibbs stared hard and humphed, his entire body thrumming with irritation. "Do you have anything to report on Phillips or have you spent all your time chatting up the barista at Starbucks?"

Tony flicked his tongue against his teeth, trying to control his temper. He carefully sat his coffee down and wiped off his hand before going to a filing cabinet and retrieving a box with a new cell phone. "I made some phone calls before I left and it seems Phillips has a clean record other than the restraining orders and domestic violence charges. His bank accounts are normal, except for a lot of internet purchases from various BDSM sites and he does have quite a few memberships to some interesting online chatrooms. He's never been married, has no kids, and even though his co-workers think he's a son of a bitch they didn't think he'd ever have enough kahunas to kidnap anybody." Tony shrugged, not really caring that his information didn't amount to much. He'd done the research like he was supposed to do. He removed the SIM card from his old phone and popped it into the new one. "If you're looking for a smoking gun, I didn't find it."

"That doesn't mean one isn't out there." Gibbs took a seat behind his desk, the lines in his face easing some but still showing signs of agitation. Tony couldn't figure out what the hell was going on with the older man.

"Did you get anything out of Phillips during the interrogation?" Tony eventually asked, directing his question at Fornell who appeared a bit more reasonable than Gibbs; the FBI agent lounged behind McGee's desk eating some pretzels he'd found in a drawer.

"The man's a complete asshole – he lawyered up so we won't be able to get to him again for a while. Doesn't sound like McGee and Ziva found much in his apartment, either."

Tony tried to catch a glimpse of Gibbs without being too obvious, desperate to ascertain if the lead agent actually believed he was too out of control to even walk down the sidewalk unsupervised. The silver-haired man tapped a pencil impatiently but never raised his eyes to meet Tony's. "He might not be our guy," Gibbs said, also directing his comment at Fornell. "We need to broaden our search. What could possibly be the motive for these kidnappings?"

"It's not money," Tony answered, refusing to be quiet, "or there would have been ransom demands."

"If it's not money then I'm betting on sex – those are the two things that make the world go round," Fornell offered sagely, letting his eyes dart between the two investigators.

"How come there's no sign of them afterward – no body, nothing?" Gibbs prompted, getting into the rhythm of the discussion despite himself.

Tony leaned on his desk and crossed his ankles. "They're being taken somewhere else; somewhere no one is looking for them."

Fornell smashed up the empty pretzel bag and threw it in the trash. "Face it; they could be anywhere – locked in a basement, buried in a backyard, tossed in a vat of acid, sold into slavery. Hell, we've seen it all from these crazy psychos."

Gibbs sat back in his chair. "Well, my gut's telling me the psycho in interrogation doesn't have anything to do with the kidnappings. The DiNozzo charm just netted a dumbass."

"You know, it's not like I was trying to pick someone up," Tony seethed, arms folded. He was completely done with Gibbs' thinly veiled insults.

Gibbs laughed tonelessly, frustrated that Tony seemed so unconcerned about how close he'd come to being abducted. "You'd flirt with a damn priest if he grinned at you, DiNozzo."

"What the hell are you implying, Gibbs?" Tony couldn't hold it in any more; he approached Gibbs without the normal caution that usually restrained his actions. If he was going to transfer, what the hell did it matter anyway? He was tired of being Mr. Nice Guy. "Why don't you stop skirting around and call me a whore and get it over with?"

Tony had never seen Gibbs' face turn red until this moment, and it wouldn't have surprised him if comic-book steam had rolled out of his boss' ears. It was a little too late to realize he might have gone too far.

Fornell stepped up before Gibbs had a chance to do more than move out from behind his desk and advance a few feet toward his senior field agent. "Settle down, boys," he warned, placing a hand on Gibbs' chest to hold him back. "Let's not do this right now." The tension was so thick it vibrated in the air. Tony clenched his fists, determined to go down fighting if Gibbs decided to take this any further.

Gibbs licked his lips and rolled his shoulders before returning to his desk silently, blue eyes blazing. Tony took the cue and did the same, like boxers returning to their corners before another round. Fornell sighed dramatically and shook his head before sliding back into McGee's chair. He mumbled something under his breath that Tony couldn't understand, but he thought he heard the words _fuck _and _get it over with._

The elevator dinged and McGee and Ziva walked out, eyes scanning the scene nervously, both quickly picking up on the discontent. Somewhere during their time away from the office they had managed to change clothes – McGee had found a baggy NCIS sweatshirt and Ziva was now wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Fornell waved at the agents from the spot behind McGee's desk.

"Hey, Boss," McGee said, glancing at Gibbs before turning his head to frown at the man sitting in his chair. "Fornell," he acknowledged the FBI agent. Ziva slipped into her own seat without a sound, dark eyes assessing the unfolding situation.

"Take that computer down to Abby and see what you two can get off it." Gibbs barely looked up as he said it.

"Sure, Boss," McGee agreed. He pointed at the trash, moving closer to Fornell. "Did you get those pretzels out of my desk?" he asked the FBI agent.

The older man gave him a friendly and unrepentant smile. "I was hungry. Gibbs never takes time to eat."

"McGee." The younger man turned around and Gibbs threw a packet of saltines at him; McGee nearly dropped the computer trying to catch them with one hand. "Get out of here," he ordered.

"Gotcha, Boss." He gave Tony a petrified gaze as he passed by.

Tony grunted in compassion, sat down at his computer and opened the NCIS website, found the document he wanted and started filling it out. He had to go now, while most of his memories consisted of a Gibbs who, although a bastard, had cared about him in his own warped way. Not a Gibbs who saw him as nothing more than a problem-causing slut who had to be monitored twenty-four hours a day.

Ignoring the tight fist constricting his chest, he continued typing.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Fornell faced away from the room while talking to Sacks on the phone, updating his partner on the development with Phillips and trying to find some connection between their only viable suspect and the missing men. Even without anything solid, the computer tech was still their best bet and they weren't ready to cut him loose just yet.

Ziva sifted through background information Fornell had provided on the victims for anything that might link back to Phillips. With her long hair pulled into a ponytail and all the make-up washed from her face she looked less like an Israeli assassin and more like a doctoral student or a young soccer mom. She kept her gaze focused on the papers in front of her, shuffling them back and forth and occasionally checking something on the computer screen. Every now and then her eyes would dart up to Tony, she would watch him for a few seconds, and then she returned to her work.

Gibbs had thought for a long time that she and Tony would end up romantically involved, but so far there was no sign of anything happening beyond good natured flirting, and truth be told Tony did flirt with most everyone. More often than not, the two agents were at each other's throats over something, fussing and fighting and never able to agree. It was like they had skipped to the end of the relationship without the good stuff at the beginning. Somehow, despite the occasional tension between them, they had managed to stay friends.

The same couldn't be said for him and DiNozzo; their friendship was strained beyond the breaking point. He shouldn't have lashed out at Tony the way he did earlier, insulting him unnecessarily; he regretted it but he couldn't take it back. When he hadn't been able to locate Tony the overprotective urge building in him had gone haywire, sending his normally stoic responses beyond their limits. It seemed that every button he had was getting pushed by the younger man and something was going to have to change before they both snapped.

He watched Tony, typing on his computer in what would be considered a snail's pace by some but for his senior field agent was a pretty fast clip. Tony's brow furrowed in concentration as he backspaced then retyped a line. He hadn't assigned Tony anything to do and the younger man hadn't offered a suggestion in his typical fashion, so he had no clue what held Tony's attention. His senior field agent had refused to even look at him over the last few hours.

He'd been hard on DiNozzo, dishing out serving after serving of tough love, refusing to give an inch as he watched his protégé struggle. Fornell was right; he needed to get his reactions under control or he stood a very real chance of doing more harm than good. It didn't make a lot of sense, but he had a terrible feeling that something bad was going to happen to Tony and his gut was churning uncontrollably. He couldn't explain it and it was driving him crazy.

At the same time he felt an inexplicable anger at DiNozzo, a need to prove to himself and to Fornell that his old friend's observation was wrong, and he didn't have any more connection to Tony than any of his other agents. So he kept DiNozzo physically close while at the same time emotionally pushing him away. It was a crappy thing to do, and certainly wasn't helping DiNozzo settle down any.

He'd never denied there were legitimate reasons his last three marriages had ended in disaster.

Tony got up from his desk and walked to the printer, rubbing the back of his head and moving slowly. It occurred to Gibbs that instead of sitting here acting like an ass, he should take DiNozzo home, feed him a decent meal, make him sleep for about twelve hours, and then have a talk about the tension growing between them. Dealing with the situation honestly would make them both feel better. But he couldn't do that – they had this case to solve, and the invisible walls they'd both built made that kind of interaction impossible.

Tony caught him staring, and instead of letting his focus shoot away he stared back, his intense green eyes practically glittering as they tried to analyze Gibbs. Abruptly, the lead agent made a decision and stood up.

_To hell with it. _ He was a Dom, after all, and following his instincts was what made him a good one. Dancing around the issue was slowly driving them both insane. It was time to address the problem straight on. "DiNozzo, with me."

Ziva's lips tightened and she looked over at Tony with concern. DiNozzo shook his head slightly and rose to follow Gibbs, hesitating before picking up the piece of paper he'd just printed. They entered the elevator together, Gibbs stopping their descent within seconds. "What's going on with you?" he asked, facing Tony who stood rigid and stiff across from him.

"I could ask you the same thing," Tony answered curtly.

"I don't understand. All you did for months was beg me to find a way to get you home and now that you're here, you're out of control. One minute you're a competent agent, the next you're worse than a four-year old who ate too much Halloween candy.

It doesn't make sense, and frankly I'm tired of trying to figure it out."

They younger man shook his head in frustration. "And you're any better? Most days I don't know whether to expect you to be a mother hen or a fighting cock. You either want me glued to your side or you can't stand to have me around. How should I react?"

Gibbs couldn't deny the accusation, so instead he gave voice to his growing worry. "I'm beginning to think you don't want to be here anymore."

Tony cleared his throat, studying the floor. "I've never wanted to leave, but…..things have been different since I came back."

"Yeah, DiNozzo, things _are_ different. For one, Vance is watching you're every move just looking for a reason to send you away again. Are you trying to give him one? Cause it sure as hell seems like it from where I'm standing."

Biting his upper lip, Tony glanced at the ceiling, then directly at Gibbs. "Isn't that what you want?"

Gibbs didn't immediately respond, his blue eyes frowning in disbelief. "What? I worked my ass off to make Vance bring you home. Why would I do that just to send you away?"

The dam broke and Tony let his fears come tumbling out. "I was the last one you came after; you made sure to get Ziva and McGee here first. Abby begged you to bring me back, and you can't say no to Abby. That's the only reason I'm here now."

Tony's flat tone indicated he truly believed what he was saying, despite the fact it was ludicrous in Gibbs' opinion. He was also truly amazed that Tony had picked up on the fact he _had_ felt some barely acknowledged ambivalence about bringing him back, but only because of his own issues with being close to the senior field agent, not because of anything Tony had done wrong. Figuring it out without really knowing it was a hallmark of the intuition that made DiNozzo such a good investigator.

"Are you serious? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, and trust me, you've said a lot of stupid things over the years," Gibbs responded, unwilling to share his internal monologue with the other man.

Tony's laugh was bitter and broken, his green eyes haunted and hollow. "Well, that's inspiring. If I'm such an idiot, why don't you head slap me? Oh wait, that would require physical contact, and I'm fairly certain you can't bring yourself to do that anymore. You might not remember, Boss, but I told you years ago when I left Baltimore that when Tony DiNozzo fucks up, he does it in a blaze of glory. I guess you never imagined I'd take someone you loved down with me."

_Jenny. _Her specter loomed over them like a discontented spirit. "Tony," Gibbs' voice softened, as he witnessed the unhealed wound reopen and he clearly saw the pain, guilt, and remorse Tony had been carrying around inside him all these long, lonely months. At this rate, Tony was never going to forgive himself and Gibbs had done precious little to make it any easier for him. He had to alter the course of the situation so he bit back all of his usual caustic comments and tried for something more supportive, even if it was beyond his normal range of communication. "How many times do I have to say that I don't blame you for what happened to Jenny?"

Tony blinked uncertainly, a spark of hope glimmering in his eyes before the shutters closed it down and the hardened edge returned. "Actions speak louder than words, Gibbs. I can tell when I'm not wanted." Tony stared at his feet again, then lifted the paper in his hand for Gibbs to take. "I've already sent this to Vance. You should both be happy."

The lead agent snatched the document and skimmed it. "DiNozzo, what the hell are you thinking? This is a damn transfer request."

"I know you'd never ask me to leave, so I decided I'd do it for you. I….." Tony closed his eyes and Gibbs got a good look at the smudges underneath them. This had gone straight to hell right under his nose. "I want to go before things get any worse, while we're still kind of….friends. It's best this way." His voice was firm yet soft, and Gibbs realized he'd given this decision a lot of thought. Gibbs could see Tony's resolve in the way he held his shoulders square and his body taught, ready to sacrifice everything he held dear.

Tony's willingness to walk away from everyone he loved touched something inside Gibbs' heart that had lain dormant for years, something that had been battering at him for months now and he'd been trying to ignore. Wrestling with the feeling, attempting to pretend it was anything other than what it was had been the source of all his anxiety, all the pressure he'd been experiencing.

The lead agent took a deep breath and regained command of his emotions; Tony was a lot more confused than he'd imagined and he should have stepped in much sooner instead of refusing to accept what was directly in front of him. That mistake was about to end. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to take control of this situation _now_. Jackson Gibbs always said, _in for a penny, in for a pound._ The knots that had been tying him up inside unraveled with his decision.

He held the paper up and carefully ripped it down the middle. He didn't know how this was going to end, but it wasn't going to end with Tony transferring to another team or going to work for Fornell. Tony belonged to _him_, and it was time to deal with what they both realized on some deeply subconscious level. "I don't accept your transfer, DiNozzo." Tony opened his mouth to say something and Gibbs interrupted. "No, I haven't been head slapping you, and I'll explain my reasons for that later, but it isn't because of Jenny. Right now I'm ordering you to go home, go to bed, and I'll come over in a few hours. We'll talk this out." His tone held the commanding inflection that brooked no argument.

Tony stared at him like he'd grown a third eye or sprouted an extra head. "What do you mean we'll _talk_?" Tony asked, clearly astounded at the idea. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs doesn't _talk_ about anything. He yells or smashes things or stomps out of the room but he never, ever _talks_."

Gibbs didn't speak, instead he moved close to Tony, backing him up against the wall of the elevator until they were nearly nose to nose. Tony's legs spread apart and Gibbs lodged himself between them, letting his body pin his subordinate in place. Briefly he was overwhelmed by Tony's scent; peppermint and toothpaste and some expensive cologne he couldn't identify and probably cost more than a year's supply of Old Spice. He breathed in a lungful of the smell and let it surround him, savoring the unique aroma that he'd never allowed himself to enjoy before. If he was going to break the rules, he might as well go all the way.

What had Tony said? _When I fuck up, I do it in a blaze of glory._ Gibbs could identify with that. This would either be the best choice he'd ever made or a catastrophe on a colossal level. Maybe he'd blame Fornell if he ended up getting fired for sexual harassment.

Tony appeared to have frozen, his arms plastered against the cool metal and his breathing non-existent. He didn't blink, didn't flinch, didn't make a sound. Only his eyes remained alive as they sought for a reason for this unexpected maneuver.

Gibbs held his gaze for a long second before finally speaking. "There's quite a bit we need to sort out, DiNozzo, so get rested up for a long night. I don't talk much, but when I do I expect to lay it all out on the table. Anything you've wanted to say to me, tonight's the night to say it. There's one thing I can guarantee – you won't be going to another team. You're staying with me until I'm good and ready to let you go. You got any questions?"

Tony swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Only about a million," he whispered.

Gibbs laughed, the first real laugh he'd had in ages. It convinced him he was doing the right thing. "I'll walk you to your car." He turned away and restarted the elevator, nudging a somewhat glazed DiNozzo out the door and into the garage. He was surprised by Tony's silence and compliance; neither were normal DiNozzo qualities, especially after all the fighting and arguing Tony had been putting up just a few minutes earlier. Tony's previous anger had dissipated as quickly as a summer storm, replaced by confusion and uncertainty. Gibbs could understand the reaction; his agent was seeing a side of him that rarely got into the light of day.

Gibbs' phone rang right before they reached Tony's car; Fornell's name appeared and he felt compelled to answer. "What?"

"One of these days I'm going to teach you the proper way to answer a phone," Fornell complained. "Sacks called, said he's got something he wants us to see; it sounds important. I'm heading over to the Hoover building to check it out. Where are you?"

"Parking garage. Meet me down here; I'll drive." Gibbs hung up amid Fornell's protests about his driving.

Tony seemed slightly less dazed by the change of events. "I'll go with you," he offered, trying, but failing, to achieve a normal voice.

Gibbs considered touching the cuts and bruises that mottled Tony's face after the bar fight, but resisted. _Not yet._ Every decision about Tony was suddenly easy, his path crystal clear. He hadn't felt this decisive since Shannon; it was somewhat frightening but mostly exhilarating and for Christ's sake he wanted to laugh again for no reason at all. He owed Fornell a beer. "No, I can catch you up on anything we find. McGee and Ziva won't be there either. You've been at the office for two days straight – go home and sleep. I still have a spare key so I'll let myself in."

Tony shook his head to clear it. "Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to fire me; that you couldn't forgive me for Jenny…."

Gibbs put a finger on Tony's lips demanding silence; he smiled at his agent's confounded expression - DiNozzo literally had no clue what was going on. There was an off chance Tony might not respond the way he hoped, but it didn't seem all that likely. If it turned out Tony didn't want to pursue anything, or the younger man didn't think this type of relationship could work, he would deal with it then. For now, he was a Dom, and Tony – whether he acknowledged it or not – was a sub close to the edge of self-destruction. And Gibbs wasn't going to let that happen.

He stared Tony down and answered bluntly. "I'm doing this because you need me to." He opened the car door and pushed Tony inside, buckling DiNozzo's seat belt.

"This is crazy," Tony protested. "I can buckle my own damn seat belt." He came back to himself more and pushed Gibbs' hands away. "I told you, I'm transferring…"

Gibbs leaned in the car door, his face within inches of Tony's. "No. You're. Not." The lead agent grinned the brilliant happy smile that he almost never used – the shocked response on Tony's face was beyond priceless. "Call me when you get in your apartment. I've had a bad feeling all day and I want to make sure you get there alright." He turned serious; he wanted to go with Tony, but the case had to be worked and he couldn't lose sight of that; besides, he needed to show Tony he still trusted him. "Make sure you call," he demanded.

"Who are you and what have you done with my boss?" Tony asked suspiciously, eyebrows knitted together. "Abrupt changes in personality are often caused by brain tumors; maybe you need to go the hospital."

Gibbs laughed again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm fine, Tony, and you're going to be fine, too – I intend to make sure of it. Now go home." He slammed the car door and left behind one very stunned Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

_NCISNCISCNIS_

Tony drove toward his apartment without really seeing anything he passed; his mind on autopilot the entire time. What had just happened? One minute he was turning in his transfer request and the next Gibbs had gone nuts, smiling, laughing, and practically sniffing him. It was absolutely bizarre.

He'd been unable to process it, simply going along with everything Gibbs said without comment. It was both his wildest dreams and darkest fears coming true at the same time. They were going to _talk_? About what? Why now, after all these years? His aching, fuzzy brain still hadn't adjusted to the incident, leaving him uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

Tony looked around and found himself in his parking lot, unaware of how long he'd been sitting in the quiet car. It was dark out, one of those warm summer evenings when bugs buzzed and fireflies flickered under a thick blanket of pinpoint stars. He paused by his car and let the night air soothe him. He was almost too tired to walk the three flights of stairs to his apartment, but nothing outweighed the undercurrent of anticipation rushing through his veins. Maybe Gibbs really didn't blame him for Jenny dying, maybe Gibbs really didn't want him to leave, maybe Gibbs really wanted….. His mind couldn't even complete the statement, because that wasn't possible, was it? Fear fluttered in his chest; what would he do if this conversation went in a direction he'd never dared to imagine it could? What would he say - did he even know what he wanted?

Judging by Gibbs' behavior in the elevator, the older man appeared certain of what he wanted.

Tony strolled along the path leading to his building, small trees and shrubs lining the way, accented by muted ground lighting. His mind was so focused on Gibbs that he didn't notice the shadow that fell along the sidewalk behind him.

"Agent DiNozzo?"

The voice startled him and he turned around without thinking, trying to identify the man whose face was partially obscured by the darkness. He heard a scuff and sensed someone else move in on the other side of him. A sharp stinging pain stabbed his arm before he had time to fully assess the situation.

"What the hell?" He grabbed his arm and looked over his shoulder. "Do I know you?"

The tall man smiled disarmingly. "We met last night. Steve, remember?"

Tony connected the dots quickly; in all the excitement over Phillips he'd totally forgotten the other man who'd hit on him at the bar_. Steve….the club…..the disappearances….shit_. Gibbs definitely had the wrong guy, and as usual the lead agent's gut was right to be worried.

With fumbling fingers, Tony tried to find his gun. It took a few seconds to register that he'd left it and his badge in his drawer at the office. When Gibbs dragged him into the elevator he hadn't known he would be going straight home so he hadn't grabbed the items like he usually did.

He stumbled, unexpectedly light-headed, bumping the man who was now within inches of his back. "Wh…what are you doing here?" His phone, he had to get to his phone and call Gibbs. His breathing hitched faster than normal and refused to slow down. Steve's face swam in and out of his vision and Tony's legs buckled. Steve caught him easily and held him by the arms.

"Oh, he is a pretty one." An unknown man wearing leather gloves tilted Tony's chin up, shooting Steve an approving gaze. "Our Japanese buyer has good taste. He'll bring at least a quarter million, easy."

"What….what are you….need to go….inside," Tony mumbled, feebly batting the fingers away from his face. His limbs were no longer in his control and his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. He felt himself being moved along the sidewalk and through the trees; he recognized the obscure alcove behind the building. His foggy brain knew it was hidden from view of anyone else walking along the path, leaving him completely isolated and at the mercy of his assailants. He tried the only tactic he could think of. "Boss….expecting me….can't be…..be late." The way his words slurred out slow and halting was frightening. What the hell had they given him?

"I don't think you'll make it, Agent DiNozzo. You're going on a little trip, so just relax and let us do all the work. Take him so I can strip his clothes off." The other man slid his arms under Tony's and grasped him tightly. Tony could feel the buttons on his shirt being undone, and then cold air hit his naked skin. His addled mind couldn't process what was happening.

"Ssssttop." He struggled, wriggling weakly, but the man simply dug his gloved fingers into Tony's skin. His belt was quickly unbuckled and removed, followed swiftly by his shoes, socks, and pants, leaving him nude and shivering.

"No underwear," Steve commented. "Looks like he was ready for us."

Stark fear gripped Tony when he realized he was more than likely going to be raped within a few feet of his own front door. He willed his body to fight his attackers, but his limbs refused to cooperate. He didn't know what drugs they had given him, but his body was now pliant as a doll's.

"Please…." He whispered, overcome with desperation. Asking them to rethink their plan wasn't quite the same as begging. "Don't do this."

He felt something warm and soft wrapped around first his right wrist then his left. The devices were pulled snug and tight. "Oh, don't worry about anything like that, pretty boy. Someone else is going to pay top dollar for the pleasure of riding your gorgeous ass."

His hands were secured behind him with a soft snicking sound. "Let's get out of here before someone comes looking for him." They grabbed his biceps and led him to a waiting conversion van parked a few feet away; he tried to struggle but had less strength than a child, forcing them to slow only enough to keep him from falling down. Tony's feet felt like they weren't even touching the ground, with every step the world around him lost focus and became more indistinct. His heart slammed against his chest. _Don't ever let them take you to the second location_. It was a basic safety rule. If only he could attract attention, yell – dozens of people were so close, safe in their apartments; someone could be here in a matter of minutes.

As the doors to the van opened, he knew it was too late. Once he was inside there would be nothing more he could do. Tony made one more attempt to jerk his arms loose, but only managed to trip over his own feet and stumble. Steve laughed harshly, his wide smile a nightmare amusement park clown towering over Tony.

The blackness that had been dancing at the edge of Tony's vision consumed him in an ebony veil and he pitched forward.

His last thought before he completely lost consciousness was of Gibbs, and how pissed his boss was going to be when Tony didn't call.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Notes: Thanks for all your kind words and support! I'm in the process of replying to everyone, but with work, my graduate class, and some issues at home it's been a challenge. I love to read your reviews, and it's my goal to respond to them all, it just sometimes takes a few days. But my heartfelt thanks for each one.**_

_**Remember, WARNING, BDSM, slash, non-con, dub-con. Those themes get more intense as the story progresses, and if you are not interested don't read! Poor Tony is in for a tough time, but Gibbs is not going to give up on finding (and taking care of) our favorite agent!**_

Fornell led the away to a small office where Agent Sacks waited for them. "We found out about the body a few hours ago – LEO's managed to get a partial print that confirmed him as the missing marine."

Gibbs stared at the pictures of a partially decomposed corpse lying amid tall grass, leaves, and mud displayed on Sacks' computer. The ravages of exposure to the elements and scavenging animals made it difficult to determine the identity of the person by sight. "Where'd they find him?" Gibbs asked, closely inspecting the images on the monitor.

"About two hours north of here along I-95. He appears to have been dumped out of a vehicle into a marshy area near a lake – he was somewhat submerged in water and it's been in the 90's the past few days plus it rained at night, which accounts for the deterioration of the body. A couple of hikers stumbled across him this morning," Sacks explained.

"Did the LEO's find any other evidence?" Fornell asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down, hunching over for a better look at their new lead.

Sacks shook his head. "Not much. The water and heat have done a job on any trace evidence and no one remembers seeing any unusual activity in the area."

"What was the cause of death?" Gibbs inquired.

"It's going to be hard to tell due to the condition of the body. Our forensics department is backed up and it could be a few days before they get to it."

Gibbs turned to Fornell. "Send the body to Ducky and Abby. They'll get us something."

The FBI agent scratched the scruff on his chin. "Alright, I'll pull some strings and see what I can do – but I expect results. This will cost me a few favors."

Gibbs smiled grimly. "If there's any evidence left, they'll find it."

Fornell stood and motioned to Sacks. "Come on, let's request this in person; it might go over better and it won't look so much like I'm turning our case over to NCIS if I'm there to sweet talk my way through it." He paused and held up a hand to Gibbs. "You stay here. Surprisingly you're not the most popular guy in the building."

With a lopsided smile Gibbs dropped into the seat Fornell just vacated. "I'll sit quietly and wait like a good boy while you go spread your charm." Sacks chuckled until Fornell shot him a less than amused glare.

After the agents left, Gibbs pulled out his phone – Tony still hadn't called him. Maybe it had been over the top to ask DiNozzo to check in when he got home, but the churning in his gut hadn't ceased and he knew it would only go away when he was sure Tony was safely tucked into bed. Promising himself not to act irritated when the younger man answered, he pushed his senior field agent's number. A few rings later, Tony's smooth voice asked him to leave a message following the beep.

Gibbs held out the phone and frowned, his stomach turning a somersault. He had been certain Tony would follow his directions until he got to the apartment later tonight. Sure, DiNozzo had been acting out lately, but he doubted the man would risk pissing him off any further after the discussion in the elevator. One thing he could always count on was Tony following explicit orders. Not expecting a different result, but trying just in case, he called again, the phone once more going directly to voicemail.

"Damnit, DiNozzo, you better be asleep with your phone on silent," he grumbled out loud.

He considered what to do – it wasn't prudent to run out of an ongoing investigation to do a bed check on a wayward agent that he'd decided he might have some unprofessional feelings for. If Tony was nothing more than another agent, he wouldn't even consider leaving to make sure DiNozzo had arrived home safely only hours after a dead body had been located. As always, the job took precedence. Besides, until they determined if there was anything else to their relationship besides being coworkers, it would be brazen to show up on Tony's doorstep to find out why he hadn't called or answered the phone. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Tony off, and considering DiNozzo's reactions to the sub label, it was highly possible. This needed to go one step at a time.

He'd have to wait, which wouldn't be easy. He always got overprotective with a sub, and he could no longer deny those feelings for DiNozzo. Maybe Tony would call back soon, and if not he'd rip him a new one tonight. This was the kind of crap that was going to have to stop, relationship or not. DiNozzo needed to be on an extremely short leash, preferably one that ended with him at the other end.

Fornell and Sacks returned, indicating the body and evidence were on its way to NCIS.

"You better get something out of this fast Gibbs, or I'm going to look like an idiot for sending everything your way. I know Mallard and Abby are good, but they need to work a miracle on this one," he complained.

"Have some faith, Fornell, you know Abs and Ducky are the best," Gibbs assured him.

Fornell ran a hand through his thinning hair, looked at his watch, and sighed. "Sacks, go home. I'll call if we get a break. Gibbs will give me a ride back to the Navy Yard." The younger agent glanced between the two men, before closing down his computer and heading for the door, the older agents following. "So where'd you send your boy to?" Fornell asked when his agent was out of sight.

"Home to bed. They aren't much good to us if they're exhausted," Gibbs replied, hoping Fornell wouldn't ask too many questions about Tony's absence.

"Shit, Gibbs, I've seen you work that kid for days straight without so much as a bathroom break. You planning on joining him in that bed sometime soon?" Fornell suggested with a leer.

Gibbs coughed. "Could you keep your mind out of the gutter for five minutes? DiNozzo was dead on his feet and needed to rest; that doesn't mean I have an ulterior motive to sleep with him."

Fornell laughed, pausing at the top of the staircase leading to the lower parking garage. "Sleep is definitely not what I was thinking you might do. Let's go see how much we can get accomplished so you can get out of here, too. We don't want to let DiNozzo get lonely." He skipped down the stairs, taking them two at a time, grinning at Gibbs' discomfort.

The lead agent scowled and followed his friend to the car.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

There was a droning sound in Tony's head; it thrummed on and on and he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. His cheek was pressed against a smooth, hard, and uncomfortable surface – it definitely wasn't the soft down of the feather pillow from his bed. He heard a thumping noise, before his head flew several inches into the air and came back into contact with the hard surface with a bone jarring bang that flashed stars across his vision.

"Shit," he hissed through clenched teeth and opened his eyes, confused when all he saw was black. All his senses abruptly returned, and he realized he couldn't move; he was lying on his side with his hands bound behind his back. He tried to raise his head up and knocked it painfully into another hard surface above him. Stretching out, his bare feet bumped into the same unyielding barrier below. He was in some kind of crate that was small, cramped, dark, and hot. Sweat pooled beneath his skin, and he quickly figured out he was completely nude.

_Jesus, what the hell happened? _He searched his addled mind to try and gauge how he'd ended up in this situation. Jumbled up memories were all that came back to him; Gibbs in the elevator, walking across the parking lot at his apartment building, the face of a man he didn't know. He flexed his sore arms and tried to stay calm.

Small spaces didn't work well for him. He didn't have a phobia, but ever since childhood he'd never liked being in confined areas he couldn't get out of on his own. As a kid, he'd gotten stuck in an armoire while playing hide and seek with some cousins; he'd only been in the tiny closet for about fifteen minutes, but it had felt like hours. He could feel his heart rate increasing, and he took a breath and blew it out slowly, forcing himself to not panic.

Oxygen. He wondered if there was enough air in this little metal coffin to keep him alive for very long. He had no desire to suffocate – he did have a phobia about that ever since the plague.

_Alright, Anthony, just keep it together and think. _More memories emerged, and he recalled the men on the path with him and the sharp pain in his arm. He'd been drugged, but why?

_The case._ Steve from the bar had somehow followed him home. He guessed he was now going to find out exactly what happened to the missing men – he always liked to be the one to break a case, but this was ridiculous. Count on the DiNozzo luck to put him in the wrong place at the wrong time. How long would it take before someone realized he was gone?

_Gibbs. _He was supposed to call when he got to his apartment, which he hadn't done before his new friends showed up. Surely the boss would be onto the problem within hours. They had some kind of appointment….date….whatever, to discuss things tonight, and Gibbs was not going to be happy when he didn't find Tony at home. Gibbs had been exuding uber dominant vibes when he'd laid down his plan for the evening, and not being able to follow through with them was certain to infuriate the older man. Tony just prayed there was sufficient evidence left behind to show he hadn't gone willingly or simply stood Gibbs up.

Damn, he'd wanted to find out what Gibbs had planned to say.

The roaring noise changed slightly and Tony's head flew up and crashed down again; he stifled a moan. His head had been pounding from the bar fight, and now it felt like the percussion line from a marching band had taken up residence in his skull. A wave of nausea rolled over him, and he willed it down, not wanting to throw up in the tiny space. The way his body shifted again indicated he was riding in a vehicle. There was no way to tell how long he'd been unconscious or how far they had travelled. He was definitely in a world of trouble.

Strangely, he was frightened, but not terrified. No matter how bad it all looked right now, Gibbs would find him, if for no other reason than to chew him out for not being available for their talk.

Hopefully someone would get him out of here before he had to take a piss – that would not be pleasant at all. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, distracting his mind with thoughts of what he would do once the lid of this crate was finally opened.

He certainly didn't intend to play the cooperative victim for very long.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Whatcha got for us, Duck?" Gibbs flowed through the doors of autopsy carrying his ever present cup of coffee, followed closely by Fornell who sipped from a bottle of water.

The Medical Examiner raised his head, peering at the agents from behind his glasses. "Ah, Jethro, Agent Fornell. I've only recently made the acquaintance of our young lad; however I believe I can give you some early information regarding the cause of his demise."

Ducky motioned the two men closer, indicating they should lean in over the dissected corpse. "You see here." The doctor pointed at the man's lungs with the end of a scalpel. "There are obvious signs of swelling and overdistention in all orbs of the lungs as well as…." He moved to the other side of the room where a partially decomposed eyeball rested on a microscope. "…. petechial hemorrhaging within the eye. Suffice it to say that the poor boy died from asphyxiation, but unfortunately at this time I cannot determine exactly the method used to end his life. However, I can rule out strangulation since there are no ligature marks on the neck and the hyboid bone is not broken. I'm leaning toward choking, aspiration, or perhaps he was gagged and suffered from severe lack of oxygen. Hopefully Abby's tox screen will shed more light on the subject if it turns out there are any traces of drugs in his system that could account for a depressed breathing rate."

"Good work, Ducky," Gibbs said, turning to head out of autopsy and over to the lab.

"There's more," the ME announced, his thick brogue indicating he wasn't ready to let the two of them escape that easily.

"Our victim shows evidence of a severe beating. There is significant bruising on his face, torso, and buttocks. I also see indications of restraints used around his wrists and ankles. Whoever took him did not treat him kindly prior to his death. It reminds me of a case in Edinborough, a fine young man was found beaten in an alley behind the theatre….."

"Ducky," Gibbs interrupted, firmly but not unkindly, "later, ok?"

"Oh, of course, the hour is quite late for such a story. I shall share it at another time when matters are not so pressing and the conversation is not occurring in the wee hours of the morning."

"Thanks, Ducky. Why don't you head home for some sleep and you can pick up on this again tomorrow. Abby still here?" Gibbs inquired, already fairly certain of the answer.

"Yes, our lovely forensics expert is using her affair with caffeine to sustain her through the darkness of night to find the answers you seek." Dr. Mallard removed his apron and cap. "I'm sure she'll have some information for you at this point."

Gibbs left Ducky to finish up and led the way to Abby's lab. Even at this hour, the sound of vibrating drums, wild guitar rhythms, and screaming lyrics reverberated through the hallway as they approached.

Fornell grimaced. "How can you stand that?"

Gibbs smiled. "Can't argue with the results." He quietly walked behind the pig-tailed scientist and kissed her cheek, holding a Caf-Pow in her line of vision.

"Perfect timing," Abby declared, taking the drink in one hand and reaching for a print out with the other. A line of empty Caf-Pow containers sat at the edge of her table; Gibbs quirked an eyebrow and Abby bounced on her toes. "Consider it a work related necessity. Do you think I could start expensing them?"

"If you found something good, I'll see what I can do," Gibbs replied, squinting at the screen showing numbers and lines. "Does this mean something?"

Abby's red lips curled into a smile. "Of course it means something. It means that our FBI agent was really doped up when he died. I found high levels of midazolam in his system; it's a powerful sedative normally only used prior to anesthesia. It doesn't take a lot to render a person semi-conscious, and there was enough in the blood sample to take down a horse. It's highly likely the medication contributed to decreased oxygen intake and was a factor in his death."

Fornell peeked over Gibbs' shoulder at the screen. "How long have you two had the body? An hour? It would take me a week to get these results."

Abby stood taller and laced her fingers together with satisfaction. "We might be small, but I like to go with the adage that size doesn't matter. It's what you do with what you've got. Don't you agree, Bossman?"

Gibbs' gave her an indulgent half-smile. "Absolutely, Abs. Like I said earlier, Tobias, you gotta love the results. Did you find anything else?"

The cheeky grin disappeared from Abby's face as she turned serious. "I found some fibers but that's all and I haven't been able to identify them yet. It does take more than an hour to do some of this work, Gibbs."

"It's no problem, Abby. You go home and take a break. We'll start again in the morning."

"You are such a Papa Bear, taking care of your cubs," Abby gushed as she gave him a hug of appreciation. "I'll leave if you promise to hit the sack, too. Promise?"

"I promise, Abby." He patted her rump. "Now scoot."

She giggled, turning off machines while they headed for the door.

"Hey, Gibbs," she called, stopping him before he entered the hallway. Fornell nodded his understanding and went on ahead.

"Yeah, Abs, what is it?" he asked, noting how she nervously twisted her hair.

"Have you heard from Tony? Ziva said you sent him home, but when I tried to call he didn't answer and that's just not like Tony, you know? I wanted to make sure he wasn't still upset about the whole club disaster, and…." She hesitated. "I kind of got the feeling he might be planning to do something really stupid and I wanted to try and stop him before it was too late."

Gibbs looked down at her; Abby joked about his instincts being similar to magical powers, but she wasn't far behind him. "He _was_ planning to do something stupid, but I'm taking care of it. I'm going to check on him as soon as I'm done here and I'll make him call you back. Ok?"  
>A playful smile danced on her lips. "You're going to his place? To check on him? I like the sound of that!"<p>

He pulled a pigtail. "Stop it with the innuendo – I only plan on talking to him. But I have to admit it's a conversation that's long overdue. Now let me wrap things up so I can get out of here."

Abby turned him around and patted him on the butt. "On your way, mister. Give me a call and tell me how it goes!" She practically shoved him out the doorway. Gibbs was still chuckling when he exited the elevator into the bullpen.

He found Fornell sitting with his feet on Gibbs' desk and his eyes closed. McGee was lying back in his chair snoring softly. Ziva had curled up on the floor using a jacket as a pillow. Gibbs knocked Fornell's feet to the floor, ungraciously waking the man.

"Come on," Gibbs said while the FBI agent rubbed his eyes. "I'll drop you at your place."

"What about them?" Fornell asked, waving his hand at the sleeping agents.

Gibbs strode out of the bullpen. "They look too cute to wake up. I'll bring 'em doughnuts in the morning."

"You're all heart, Gibbs. All heart. DiNozzo's a lucky man."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Come on, man, I need to stretch my legs. We've been driving for hours and I don't know about you, but I could use a break."

Steve stared dispassionately at his partner; Josh had been whining for a while and he was getting sick of listening to it. The lanky young man was his boss' nephew, so he had to put up with him, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He supposed there was no choice but to stop – they needed to check on the cargo anyway. There was no sense repeating the fiasco that occurred the last time they'd done this.

He maneuvered the van down an off ramp and through a small town, taking winding back roads until he found a secluded area that afforded a fair amount of privacy, the only light provided by their headlights and the crescent moon.

"Alright, get out and take a leak. Then we'll have a look at our newest acquisition."

Steve hopped from the cab of the van and lit a cigarette, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs and ease his nerves. He liked to pick up merchandise in DC because of the plethora of military and law enforcement personnel to choose from, but this latest trip had turned into nothing short of a fucking nightmare. The first sub they'd selected had fought like the trained marine he was, and they had been forced to get unusually rough with him, ultimately injecting him with an extra dose of meds. When they had stopped several hours later to give him some water, the man had been dead. Steve still didn't know if it had been the beating or the drugs that killed him, but in the end it didn't matter. They hadn't been able to deliver, and it left them both in an extremely tenuous position. They couldn't go back empty-handed, so it forced them to return to DC and try again. Fortunately their Japanese buyer hadn't minded to make another selection.

The man they'd picked this time had been quite a coup; if everything went well with his training, their Asian friend would pay an enormous sum for the new slave. And if something fell through with that deal, there were dozens of others waiting to make a sizeable bid on such a handsome member of law enforcement. They just had to make sure not to fuck up before they delivered him to the camp.

Josh loped back toward the van. Steve reached inside and grabbed the small rifle he'd wedged in the seat next to him. He nodded at the young man, who produced a handgun from the back of his pants. Josh was so green the older man wasn't even sure if the kid knew how to use the weapon, but he didn't say anything to the fidgety boy. Steve opened the rear doors and climbed into the empty cargo area, stooping next to a long metal storage crate. He lifted the lid, peering into the empty bin. Placing his gun on the floor, he pressed on the bottom of the crate, listening for the pop that meant the false panel had released. Sliding his fingers in the cracks, he pried the thin layer of metal up until it rested against the inside of the box.

The man inside blinked up at him warily, his face a mask of uncertainty and fear. There was something else in the green eyes that Steve couldn't readily identify, and at this point he wasn't taking any chances – their victim was a trained federal agent after all. His own military background had taught him not to take any unnecessary risks, so he cautiously lifted his weapon off the floor. "Get out," he ordered tersely. "And don't think we won't shoot you if you try anything dumb, like running."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony assessed the situation as quickly as he could, considering that he still wasn't thinking all that clearly. The effects of the drugs continued to course through his veins, making him stumble when they helped pull him out of the crate. His skin was slick with sweat and his legs trembled with each step, but within a few minutes he found himself standing outside of the van with the cool night air raising goosebumps on his exposed flesh. He'd never really minded to take off his clothes, but right now his nakedness made him feel vulnerable and somewhat defenseless standing bound next to the two fully clothed men.

"Here, drink this." Steve shoved a bottle of water in front of him, tilting it so Tony could drink without the use of his hands which remained secured behind his back. The liquid felt like heaven going down his parched throat and he gulped it eagerly.

All too soon the water was removed. Tony eyed his captors disdainfully, letting his gaze rest on Steve. "If you'd wanted a date that bad, all you had to do was say so. This is a bit extreme if you want my opinion. Maybe try Craig's List next time. Or you could go with ; they have a pretty high success rate even for assholes with no personality."

The taller man laughed. "You have a smart mouth, boy. I think that's the first thing I'm going to work on getting rid of." He grabbed Tony's jaw, squeezing tightly, forcing Tony to stare him in the eye. "You'll soon find out the only thing that pretty mouth of yours is good for is to suck the dick of your master." He shook Tony's head and let go.

"Now you need to piss and then it's back to your chariot, princess."

Josh tugged him next to a tree; Steve reached around from behind to grasp his penis. "I think you could use some help here."

There was no way he would let this man touch him. With a primal growl Tony lurched free from Steve's grip and lunged unsteadily into a thicket of bushes. They had driven here; he just had to reach the road and maybe help nearby if he could only move fast enough to find someone.

The effects of the drugs, his restrained arms, and the lack of shoes, all combined to slow him down. Branches slapped his face and rocks dug into the soles of his bare feet. The world around him swam in and out of focus and he lost his footing, tumbling roughly down a small embankment before landing on his side in a small stream, an agonizing pain piercing his ribs where he'd smashed into a large rock.

Before he could catch his breath hands were on him, pulling him upward to stand soggy and dripping in the shallow water. Steve's face loomed into his line of vision. "Next time you try something like that I'll shoot one of your balls off, you understand me?" His face contorted in anger and he shoved his gun into Tony's crotch to make sure his message was clear.

Tony gasped heavily and tried to pull himself together. "Sounds like my balls are an important part of the overall package, so I think they're fairly safe." The acerbic retort rolled off his tongue before he gave it much consideration; goading people was so ingrained in his personality it would require a lot more than Steve's threats to make him change.

The backhanded slap across his face stung more than Tony expected it would, and he licked a salty trickle of blood off his lip.

"Get him back to the van," Steve ordered his companion. "I'm tired of this shit."

Josh moved to comply, forcing Tony to walk back up the small hill. Tony decided he'd had enough; if they got him in the van again he had little chance of ever getting out of this in one piece. He struggled against Josh's grip, trying to pull away.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" he shouted. "Help! Help!" The possibility of someone hearing him in this isolated area was dim, but he had to try something. Desperation fueled him as he continued to yell and fight, kicking Josh in the shin and kneeing Steve in the nose when he bent to help his friend.

"You little prick!" Steve screamed, wiping blood from his face as Tony continued to squirm and flail as much as he could with his hands tied behind him. They finally shoved him onto the floor of the van; Steve climbed on his back with the full force of his weight and pinned him down roughly. "Get another shot! I'm not putting up with this crap all the way to the camp."

Josh hesitated. "That's what got us in trouble last time, Steve. Are you sure that's a good idea?" The NCIS agent bucked in the air in an effort to dislodge the man on top of him.

Steve slammed Tony's head into the floor, using his forearm to keep him from moving. Tony stifled a groan, unwilling to give them any satisfaction from knowing that he was in a significant amount of pain. He hoped the knife like sensation in his chest wasn't actually a broken rib or two. He attempted to pull in a full breath, but between the pain and Steve's knee it was nearly impossible. "Just give him half a dose and make sure it's in the muscle."

Tony listened as Josh rummaged around in the cab of the vehicle then returned, climbing in beside them. He leaned over Tony's legs and wiped an alcohol swab across his butt cheek.

"Stop it!" Tony managed to mumble, struggling again. "Get the hell away from me!"

"Calm down, princess," Steve instructed, tightening his hold on DiNozzo's writhing form. "You're gonna feel much better in a few minutes."

Tony flinched when the needle pierced through his skin and plunged deep into the muscle of his ass. Within seconds it was removed, but Steve didn't loosen his grip until Tony felt his body relax, his heart rate slow, and his eyes grow heavy as lead. Steve moved off of him and said something to Josh, but Tony couldn't understand the words. He felt disconnected and the world around him moved in slow motion. His head lolled when they lifted him up and lowered him back into the crate. He tried to protest, maybe even beg them not to close the lid, but he couldn't speak and barely registered it when the moonlight faded and disappeared, as he was once more shut into his tiny cramped prison.

_Gibbs will find me, _he repeated silently into the darkness, a desperate mantra that was all he had to hold on to. _Gibbs will find me._

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs pulled into the parking space next to Tony's latest car. DiNozzo had a tendency to acquire a new automobile every few years; between car bombings and auto thefts he didn't hold on to one for very long. The most recent toy was a candy apple red Camaro – Gibbs knew it well since it had sat in his garage during the months Tony was away as Agent Afloat. Every few weeks he'd started it up and driven around for the day, ostensibly to keep the car in good working order, but he had other motives as well.

The car reminded him of Tony. It smelled like him, the radio stations were pre-set to stations he listened to, the leather seat was molded to fit his body. It was while driving Tony's car Gibbs first discovered he might have stronger feelings for his senior field agent than he had ever acknowledged. Even then, he'd ignored the stirrings in his stomach and heart, preferring to believe it was the companionship of a good friend he missed. Today in the elevator he finally faced the truth that it was definitely something more.

He locked his car and walked along the manicured path to Tony's apartment. When DiNozzo joined NCIS Gibbs would have never in a million years imagined being attracted to him. Despite the fact he always saw the top notch investigator and brave officer of the law that was at the heart of Tony's persona, it had taken him far too long to appreciate the thoughtful friend and loyal partner that was hidden underneath the fancy suits and movie quotes. He was a hell of a lot more handsome as a man than he had been as a boy and it was time to deal with the connection between them that refused to be ignored.

Gibbs knocked on the door once, rapping harder and faster when he didn't get a reply. He flipped out his phone and called, still receiving no answer. Concern gnawed at his gut. There was no way Tony would have gone somewhere else when he knew Gibbs was on his way over, he just didn't believe it.

Producing the key to Tony's apartment, he opened the door and stepped inside. The entryway was dark and quiet - the rest of the apartment turned out to be the same.

Years of working crime scenes had attuned him to the feel of things not quite right, and all his instincts came to attention as he made his way slowly through the eerily silent home. There was no sign of Tony anywhere; his keys weren't on the table by the door, there were no shoes tossed by the couch, no suit jacket folded carefully over a chair. With trepidation Gibbs inched his way down the hall toward Tony's closed bedroom door. He prayed the younger man was on the other side, curled up fast asleep and snoring softly. Carefully he turned the knob and let the white six panel door swing open.

The comforter lay crunched in a ball, pillows were strewn askew, and some sweats were tossed on the dresser. Tony was nowhere to be found.

Out of force of habit, Gibbs checked the bathrooms and guest bedroom, but he already knew the apartment was empty. Where before he had moved cautiously and soundlessly, now he whipped into a flurry of action. He strode out the front door and down the steps toward Tony's car. He still had a key to that, too. Maybe it would provide some clue to where Tony had gone.

Deciding to try one more time, he punched Tony's phone number again. The ringing in his ear was echoed by a faint ringing close to him. He pulled the phone away and looked around, trying to locate the chiming sound. The ringing stopped as the phone went to voice mail. Gibbs hit the buttons forcefully, moving toward the side of the building where the sound had come from. When the ringing started again, he stomped through some bushes into a shadowy area separated from the rest of the apartment complex. Several garbage cans lined the brick walls.

Gibbs' heart sank when he realized the ringing was coming from inside one of the bins. Not wanting his growing suspicions to be true, but afraid not to take appropriate precautions, he slid a plastic glove out of his jacket pocket and slipped it on before lifting the trash lid.

What he saw nearly stopped his already racing heart. DiNozzo's cell phone lay on top of a pile of crumpled clothes that he immediately recognized as Tony's. He picked up the phone and snapped it open; his and Abby's missed calls filled the screen. Apparently Tony hadn't answered or used his phone since he'd left the Navy Yard. Gingerly he shifted the clothes around; everything Tony had been wearing tonight was in there, all the way down to his belt and socks.

A hard, icy ball formed in Gibbs' stomach. Wherever he was, Tony was naked, exposed, and had no one to watch his six. He had turned out to be the perfect bait after all, and the kidnappers had abducted him right in front of Gibbs' eyes.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony couldn't recall exactly how many times he'd been taken out of the van, had water poured down his throat, pissed, and then was given another injection. He was in a stupor, moving zombie like wherever they pushed him. He had started shaking a while back, and the trembling coursed through him repeatedly, pulling at the muscles that had stiffened from being in the same position for so long. His chest ached, and each breath he took seemed too slow and shallow, never giving him enough oxygen to clear the confusion from his mind.

This time, when he stood outside the van on shaky legs that threatened to give out at any moment, things were different. The sun shone brightly in the sky, forcing him to blink after so many hours in total darkness.

Josh took his arm and led him in the direction of a small pier where a boat and a man with a neatly trimmed goatee, dressed in snug leather pants and a black t-shirt, waited. The lines in his face put him in his mid-fifties, but the muscles in his arms indicated the excellent condition of his body despite his age. Steve approached with his arms wide, embracing the long-haired man with a pat on the back.

"Whaddya think, Rick?" he asked, turning Tony to face the new person. The sudden movement created a wave of vertigo that left Tony swaying dangerously.

The salt and pepper haired man snorted. "I think you've nearly overdosed another one. Are you trying to kill off all our merchandise? Hey," he reached out and cupped Tony's cheek, giving Steve an irritated glance. "Hey, boy, you with us?"

"Don't…..don't touch….me," DiNozzo slurred and tried to pull away.

"Oh, my boy, you're going to have to get over that. You are a pretty one." He let a thumb lightly trace Tony's jawline. "Josh, grab a blanket out of the berth."

The younger man gave Steve a shrug and did as he was told. Steve's forehead creased. "You're going to cover him up? You always said to keep them naked from the very beginning."

"The way he's shaking, I'd say we need to do something. I don't think we can afford to lose any more potential profit. Do you?" The steady gaze from his slate grey eyes made his point clear.

"No, no we can't," Steve agreed nervously, uncomfortable with the reminder of his earlier screw-up.

"Besides, I think this boy might be the best new sub you've found in a long time." He gave Tony an appreciative perusal, his hands trailing gently over the firm body, already considering how much money he'd be worth. "We need to keep him safe and healthy. Here…" He took the blanket from Josh and draped it over Tony's shoulders. "Is that better?"

Tony managed to look up at him. This man, Rick, was one of them, but he had tried to help… "My….my arms…." Tony whispered, accompanied by a weak cough. "They hurt."

"Yes, well I think it would be safe to take care of that. You aren't going anywhere, are you?" Tony didn't answer, his eyes drifting closed. He was so tired; all he wanted to do was sleep and ignore everything that was happening. He dimly registered that his arms were released, tingling sensations announcing the return of circulation.

"So…..so tired." He felt himself slumping forward; Rick placed a thick arm around his waist to hold him up.

"Come on, let's get him settled. He'll probably sleep for the next forty-eight hours anyway." They moved Tony onto the boat and helped him lay down on a small couch in the cabin.

Rick turned to Steve, staring at the bloody lip from earlier. "Did he do that to you?"

"Yeah, that's why we had to give him so much medication. He fought too hard." Steve brushed his fingers over the wound.

Rick gazed at Tony and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Our customers like a little fight, especially in a sub as attractive as this one. We'll break him like a wild stallion – it'll make him a much better slave when it's all said and done. You did good Steve, real good."

Tony stirred, and in his hazy dreams felt the hand on his head, the course skin touching him lightly, and imagined it was Gibbs who held him, Gibbs who soothed him, and Gibbs who would make everything alright.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The lead agent watched out of the corner of his eye as Ziva held Tony's folded clothes reverently, leaning near enough to smell them but not touch what was now classified as evidence. She carefully placed the garments into a plastic bag and sealed it, giving McGee a sad half smile as he walked over next to her.

"He will want these back and I will not be held responsible if they cannot be worn again. He will be insufferable."

McGee tilted his head and nodded his understanding. "Yeah, DiNozzo without his clothes is like a knight without his armor."

Ziva took a deep breath and looked at McGee dead on. "We will find him, yes?"

The agent who had stopped being a probie years ago gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, we will. You know Gibbs won't ever give up, especially not on Tony."

Their boss turned his head away before they glanced over at him and pretended to stare at something on the ground. It didn't prevent him from hearing her soft reply.

"He will spend the rest of his life searching for Tony if he has to," she agreed.

Gibbs was reminded of a movie – The Searchers with John Wayne. The Duke had spent years trying to find Natalie Woods' character, refusing to quit even when every one else had given up. In the end he found her, brutalized by Indians and not even sure who she was any more, but he had brought her home. Ziva was right; nothing would get in the way of him finding DiNozzo.

A bittersweet chuckle escaped his lips; he'd finally come up with a movie reference and Tony wasn't around to share it with.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. "I got here as fast as I could, Jethro. What the hell happened?" Fornell and Sacks waited expectantly for him to explain the urgent phone call he'd place less than half an hour before.

"DiNozzo's missing. Found his clothes and phone in that trash can." He pointed behind him. "No one saw anything, there are no fingerprints, and the apartment doesn't have surveillance cameras. We've got nothing."

"How long do you estimate he's been gone?" Fornell kept his voice even and calm.

"Six or seven hours – I don't think he stepped foot inside his apartment. My guess is they grabbed him on the way in." Gibbs' gaze stayed steady and cold. He marveled at his own ability to compartmentalize his feelings; it was a skill learned years ago when faced with a loss so great it threatened to consume his soul. _Do the job._ It was the best way, the only way, to help Tony now.

McGee and Ziva joined them. "We have collected everything we can think of, including the trash can. Maybe Abby can find something we did not see," Ziva reported. "What do you want to do now?"

The sun broke over the horizon, bathing them all in its pale glow. Gibbs wondered if the sun was shining where Tony was, and if he could see it. McGee and Ziva were good agents, but Tony wouldn't be asking him what to do next; he would instinctively know.

Gibbs looked at them – he addressed Ziva first. "Put a BOLO out on Tony; check any place you can think of – hospitals, police stations, homeless shelters. This has something to do with Dominants and submissives; McGee check websites that cater to that sort of lifestyle. No idea is too implausible." He was desperate; they had to look anywhere and everywhere.

"What are you going to do?" McGee asked. There was a time he wouldn't have spoken up, but Tony had taught him how to express his mind more, even to Gibbs.

"I'm going with Fornell and Sacks to canvass local D/s bars. It's a long shot but someone has to know something."

Fornell nodded. "Let's go." He gave Gibbs a once over. "But I'm driving this time."

They headed for their cars, Gibbs sliding into Fornell's back seat. He'd come back for his own car later. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now, didn't want to be forced to interact. This was his fault; he'd been worried but sent Tony home anyway.

He'd ordered him straight into the hands of a kidnapper, and based on their progress in the case so far, he might never get him back this time.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Notes: You guys have been wonderful in your support and I appreciate it so much! The next few chapters aren't easy for our guys, but they won't be apart for longer than necessary (trying to give a hint but not give too much away).**_

_**The BDSM, slash, kink, and non-con gets more intense in the next few chapters. You are WARNED.**_

_**I've tried to reply to everyone, but if I missed yours I apologize. I'm going to keep better track this time! I love to read your reviews, so let me know if you like the story and the fast updates!**_

The sound of clanging entered Tony's consciousness and he wondered if he'd fallen asleep with the television on; he did that sometimes when he was exhausted after a long case. Rolling over on his side, the lumps underneath him were a quick sign he wasn't sleeping on his king sized pillow topped mattress. As a matter of fact, his knees hung off the edge of a thin piece of foam that most definitely wasn't something he owned.

He peeled his eyes open, ignoring the discordant symphony playing in his brain, and looked around. He was lying on the floor on top of a tiny pallet. The room he was in was small, only about the size of a decent walk-in closet – he doubted if all his clothes would fit in here. The walls were grey cinderblock on three sides, there were no windows, and the front was made entirely of thick bars. It reminded Tony of the kind of cell found in a prison movie – maybe some Cool Hand Luke quotes would be appropriate, although Luke didn't turn out too well in the end of that movie.

And there was the fact that Luke hadn't been naked - unless there was a porn version, which could be interesting. He fought against the natural tendency to be embarrassed at his nudity, but tried not to let it upset him too much. If it was good enough for Adam and Eve, it was good enough for him – although a fig leaf would be kind of nice.

He swallowed and realized his throat was dry and scratchy like he hadn't had anything to drink in a long time, and his rib cage protested each breath. Every muscle ached and he wondered how long he'd been unconscious. He felt like Rip Van Winkle after his hundred year nap.

When he lifted his hand to scratch his itching face, his attention was drawn to green leather cuffs encasing his wrists. Tony stared at them, appalled to find they were fastened with small locks. The leather was wide, sturdy, and firm. There was no way he could remove them without a key or knife. He felt something constricting his neck and reached up to find a collar; his fingers quickly discovered a lock attached to this restrictive device, too. Matching cuffs were buckled and locked around his ankles.

_Great, just great_. Abby would have loved this.

Carefully he sat up, holding his head as a wave of nausea hit him.

He tried to remember how he'd gotten here, but found it difficult to piece together recent events. His last clear memory was of Gibbs cornering him in the elevator and acting like a mad man. He frowned. Gibbs had sent him home, and promised to come over…..

But Tony hadn't made it home. He'd ended up here instead – the nightmare ride in the back of the van resurfaced, and things started to fall into place. He wondered how much time had passed since his abduction, and if Gibbs or anyone else had noticed his disappearance yet.

"Good morning." Tony's head snapped up at the greeting; a vaguely familiar figure waited outside the bars of his cell. The middle-aged man stood with his feet slightly apart and his hands folded in front of him. He wore leather pants and a black button down shirt. A whip dangled from his wide leather belt, and a holster was nestled against his hip – Tony could see the butt of a pistol sticking out the top. The man's graying hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a long silver earring dangled from one ear. A silver chain circled his neck, and he wore another on his wrist. He stared at Tony with hard, grey eyes that were set deeply into his angular face. His smile held all the warmth of a lizard sunning itself on a rock.

Steve and Josh stood behind him; Tony noticed they were both armed with small automatic rifles; whips were attached to their belts as well. Whatever was going on here, his captors meant serious business.

"I'm going to have to complain about the turn-down service in your fine establishment," Tony quipped. "I always look forward to those little mints the housekeeping staff leaves on the pillow, but I think they forgot." He glanced down at where he'd been sleeping. "Actually, they forgot the pillow, too."

The man's frown deepened. "Stephen said you were a handful; I guess he was right. That's ok – I haven't been forced to break a truly difficult slave in awhile and I'm looking forward to the challenge. We'll start immediately. Everything about your previous life is to be forgotten; you are no longer who you were before. Your given name is no longer necessary and you will be referred to as boy or slave. You are to address me as Master. The other Doms you encounter here will be called Sir. As a submissive, you are expected to follow all commands as soon as they are given…."

"I'm not a submissive," Tony interrupted. "Somehow you got your information wrong. So does that mean I can go? I mean, a mistake like that, you certainly wouldn't want to keep me. I'm sure it would have a negative effect on your customer service ratings."

The man took a breath, clearly irritated. "You are not to speak unless given permission. I can arrange to keep you gagged if necessary to reinforce this rule."

Tony laughed and pushed himself up so he was standing. His abdomen ached dully from the beating he'd had earlier, but it wasn't incapacitating. "Go ahead, it doesn't matter. I'm still not a submissive and I have no intention of playing along with whatever little games you have set up here."

The gleam in the man's dark eyes conveyed his contempt for Tony's statement. "We'll see about that, boy."

A line of men appeared in the hallway passing in front of Tony's cell. They were naked, like him, their hands shackled in front of them and their heads bowed; several were hobbled by lengths of chain between their feet. None looked his way, but Tony was pretty certain he recognized a few of the faces he'd seen in Fornell's file. One handler walked in front of the line and another at the rear; both had guns attached to their belts and carried whips in their hands.

"Hey, Fornell says hi," Tony called out, taking a chance he recognized the man walking at the end of the line as a missing FBI agent. A pair of light brown eyes popped up at him.

"Head down," the handler snarled; his whip flicked out like a bolt of lightning, striking the man on his back with a loud crack. The man flinched and his face contorted in pain. Quickly he cast his eyes back down at the floor.

Tony's eyes widened when he saw blood trickling from a long gash seared into the man's flesh as he continued to silently walk down the hallway. It was definitely one of the feds reported missing several months ago. Tony couldn't help but note the flat, dead expression on the agent's face that was vastly different from the slightly cocky self-assurance in the picture he had seen. What had they done to these men that could sap them of their independence so completely?

"We do not tolerate disobedience of any kind," the grey haired man, his self-proclaimed master, warned. "It will do you well to remember that in the days to come." He pulled a set of keys off his belt and stepped forward, opening the cell door. "The start of the day is a time for you to show your appreciation for your master. Before you are allowed to eat or drink, you need to go to your knees in front of me." He paused. "Now."

Tony stared in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? I mean, you do realize this isn't speed dating. We haven't even had dinner, or gone to the movies, or talked on the phone for hours about nothing, or held hands while walking in the park…."

Rick took the whip off his belt and jabbed the handle into Tony's tender stomach. The federal agent doubled over, and Rick shoved him the rest of the way to the floor, ignoring the outraged look as DiNozzo gasped for breath. He walked back around and placed his feet directly in front of the struggling man.

"Now you can kiss my boots, boy."

Tony lifted his chin to stare his captor directly in the eyes. "No fucking way."

Leaning down, Rick grabbed a fistful of Tony's hair and tugged; DiNozzo set his jaw and refused to react to the pain in his scalp.

"In a few days you'll beg for the chance to kiss my feet. Until then, your on basic rations – food is earned by good behavior." He shook Tony's head harshly. "Don't worry, I'll teach you what it means to be a slave." Rick turned toward Steve. "Bring him to the dining hall; he can watch everyone else eat."

Tony didn't respond as he was hauled to his feet, his wrists linked behind him with the cuffs, and he was prodded, naked, out the cell door. Steve gave him a shove, knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble.

The hand Steve rested on his whip was the only thing that prevented Tony from making a smart ass comment.

_You better be looking for me, Boss. _He doubted he would stay out of trouble here for very long.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The bullpen was uncharacteristically quiet – the sound of feet swishing against carpet, of muted whispers, of pens scratching paper providing the only indications of business as usual. Everyone in the building was aware of Tony's disappearance and they were giving the Major Crimes Response Team, and Gibbs in particular, a wide berth. Ziva and McGee sat at their desks; Fornell had taken up residence in Tony's chair; Sacks sat on the corner of DiNozzo's unused desk. Abby and Palmer were slumped in extra chairs they'd pulled from the other side of the cubicle, and Ducky stood next to Gibbs' desk with his arms folded.

Gibbs glanced up to where Vance stood at the second floor railing; he and Fornell had just finished briefing the Director. The meeting had been short since there was little to report. All their questioning, canvassing, and processing of potential evidence had provided no information about what had happened to Tony. Abby had Major Mass Spec working on the fibers from the marine's body, but so far their single clue had provided no leads.

No apparent connection existed between Phillips and the disappearances; this conclusion combined with the fact he was cooling his heals in interrogation when Tony vanished eliminated the only suspect they'd managed to find. They were at a complete dead-end.

Abby stood up abruptly, the chains on her belt rattling, and pointed her finger in the air. "I remember something!" The chair she had been sitting in toppled over, and everyone stared.

"What is it, Abs?" Gibbs prompted, his voice more calm than he felt. He'd take anything at the moment, even something hare-brained and crazy - anything to stop time from eroding meaninglessly while Tony waited beyond their reach.

"When we were at the club, before the fight broke out, I asked Tony to come and dance with us. Someone sent him a drink while I was at the bar with him – it was a really creepy Asian guy with a half-naked slave sitting by his table. He was staring at Tony like he was looking at sex on a stick." Abby waved her hands a little, realizing what she'd said as she met Gibbs' eyes. "You know what I mean. He looked like he wanted to bend Tony over and take him right there in front of everybody." She stomped her foot. "I shouldn't have put it that way, I'm just really upset and worried and I can't think straight when someone I love is in danger! If the guy I saw has anything to do with Tony's abduction, he's in big trouble Gibbs. I can't imagine what Tony would do if someone made him kneel naked on the end of a leash like that! I mean, I know Tony's a submissive, and everybody else knows Tony's a submissive, but Tony doesn't know he's a submissive, and it's going to take someone really kind and special to help him understand that, not some slimy Dom who doesn't actually care about him and is probably some kind of sadist…."

"Abby," Gibbs interrupted.

"They're gonna hurt him, Gibbs. I can feel it," she whispered, her lower lip shaking. "I don't want somebody to break him. Then he won't be Tony anymore."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Gibbs enveloped her in a hug. "I'm not going to let anyone break him, Abby. I swear." Her chin rested on his shoulder and he rubbed her back gently.

McGee approached the pair. "Yeah, Abs. We'll find him before anything bad happens." Abby let go of Gibbs and snuggled into McGee's chest. Ziva joined them, standing awkwardly for a moment before wrapping her arms around the duo. Soon, Palmer and Ducky were hugging her as well. Gibbs shook his head and gave Fornell a sad, twisted smile. He didn't care what the FBI agent thought about the impromptu group hug, the way his team felt about each other was what made them so special. They weren't just co-workers punching the clock on a nine-to-five job; they were a family and despite the occasional bickering and squabbling, they loved each other. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Vance turning to walk back to his office.

Fornell stood up, rummaging in his pocket. "Here," he said a bit gruffly, producing a handkerchief, which Abby took with a sniffle followed by a loud blow of her nose.

"Thanks," she said, offering the used square of linen back to the agent. Fornell took it carefully, placing it on DiNozzo's desk next to Sacks, who scooted away from it.

Gibbs rested his hands on Abby's shoulders. "Do you think you could describe the man you saw? Maybe we could get a drawing of him." It was a long shot, but currently it was all they had.

Abby perked up a little at the prospect of helping. "Yeah, I could do that."

Ziva's eyebrows raised. "I remember him, as well. He was very noticeable, the way he had his submissive so scantily dressed and obviously scared of his own shadow. I will assist Abby with the description."

"Good," Gibbs nodded. It was something, some hope that they might get Tony back while he could still keep his promise to the Goth scientist that their senior field agent would be unharmed. Every minute that passed was one more minute that left Tony in grave danger, danger that would have never occurred if he had just kept Tony close and hadn't tried to distance himself like a fool. He had pushed Tony away like he always did when people got too close, and this time they were both paying the price. Gibbs' gut clenched and unclenched in a spastic rhythm, a constant reminder of his current inability to do anything useful. "I'll get an artist down here immediately. As soon as you're done Fornell and I will head back to the clubs and see if anyone recognizes him. Abby, you can run the picture against facial recognition software and see if you get a hit."

The scientist bit her lip and nodded resolutely. He let his gaze linger on the team members gathered close, and he was overcome with pride and gratitude. They were the best, and if there was any chance of finding DiNozzo, they would be the ones to do it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Steve and Josh forced Tony down several hallways and into a room with a low table on one side and a regular dining room table on the other. "Over there," Steve demanded, using his large hand to push Tony to the floor in the center of the room between the two pieces of furniture. Josh moved behind him and quickly joined the cuffs on his ankles together. Steve gave him a wicked grin, producing a small length of chain from his pocket, handing it to Josh who went to work again. When they were done, Tony's wrists were attached to his ankles; he was kneeling in the floor unable to get up or even move much since a shift in any direction would more than likely cause him to fall over. It took a lot of concentration just to maintain his balance.

Steve stepped close and used his foot to spread Tony's bent legs wide, allowing his dick front and center display; Tony willed himself to not adjust position and reveal his intense discomfort.

"You might be a belligerent asshole, but that doesn't mean you aren't hot," Steve commented. The trainer licked his lips and Tony noticed, horrified, as the bulge in Steve's pants got significantly larger. _What the hell? _"You think you're a tough guy, don't you?" Steve goaded, walking around him in a circle. "A big, bad, federal agent with a gun and a badge? Well, here, I'm the one with the gun, and the whip, and the taser, and anything else I want to use to keep you in line." He nudged Tony's cock with his foot, and DiNozzo couldn't stop a sharp intake of breath. "I knew you were a slut when I saw you in that bar. Master Rick will show you just what kind of slut you are; I can't wait to see you begging to suck his dick or have his cock shoved up your ass."

Tony swallowed, a part of him terrified, a part of him indignant, and a part of him completely freaked out. His muscles tensed involuntarily. "I don't plan on begging any of you for anything, especially not your scrawny, limp dicks."

Steve laughed and Josh joined him, the sound grating to Tony's already brittle nerves. "Doesn't matter, you'll have your chance to get up close and personal whether you beg for it or not."

Sounds interrupted them as Rick and several guards accompanied a small group of men into the dining area. The slaves quickly entered a nearby room and returned with plates of food and plastic cups. Tony noted they weren't given any actual silverware that might be used as weapons; everything was plastic. The men knelt in front of the low table and ate in silence. Tony watched, somewhat captivated by their obedience. No one seemed the least bit surprised to see a naked man displayed on the floor in front of them.

Rick approached him and Tony shifted nervously. Being bound and helpless heightened his sense of awareness about everyone around him, and he constantly worried about being attacked. These people were crazy, and Rick was the resident Mad Hatter.

A large hand landed on top of his head and pushed it toward the floor. "Eyes down," Rick commanded. "You are a slave and slaves don't make eye contact unless given permission."

Tony squirmed. "I'm not a slave," he countered, trying to move out of the grip Rick had on his head. "Just because you kidnapped me and brought me here doesn't make me anything."

A slicing sensation penetrated the soles of his feet. Rick lashed him several more times and Tony gasped at the intense pain created by a small, thin implement the man had removed from his belt.

"Do not back talk me," Rick hissed in his ear. "I won't tolerate it. How should you respond to me after I've given you a command?"

Tony quivered a bit, fearful of where this was leading. He knew what Rick wanted him to say, knew that he should say it if he had any rational sense of self-preservation, but he couldn't make himself spit out the words. He couldn't do it. He squared his shoulders with resolve to accept wherever this led.

Fire shot across his back as the wiry device struck him again several times. Tony twisted in a vain attempt to escape the blows.

"Answer me, boy, so this will stop," Rick demanded again, cold steel in his voice.

"Hell no," DiNozzo answered without hesitation. This time the small rod rained down from various directions, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the floor where he landed roughly on his side, the injuries from the previous few days flaring sharply.

_"Show me respect, you spoiled piece of shit!" The man standing over him, the man who had just punched him in the face and was now kicking him in the stomach, the man who was Freddy Krueger, Jason Vorhees, and Michael Myers all rolled into one, the man who was dead and had been dead for years, shouted angrily. _

Tony blinked, confused by the sudden flash of memory. Rick was there again, yelling something at him, but Tony couldn't understand the words, his mind catapulting from past to present, from memory to reality, somehow merging, meeting, becoming one. Rick's face disappeared and the other returned.

_"You think you're better than me, don't you? Think you're too good for someone like me, huh? Pretty little rich boy like you? You weren't too good when you sucked my dick! I'll teach you to talk to me like I'm beneath you!" The kicking continued, and Tony tried to protect his stomach with his hands, but the steel toed boots couldn't be stopped, they pounded into his flesh mercilessly._

_Why had his father left him with this man? Where had his nanny gone? Didn't anybody care enough to help him? Hot, wet tears burned down his cheeks. He was eleven, too old to cry, but the pain in his stomach was too much; he vomited, the acidic bile leaving a burning trail inside his throat and mouth._

_"Look what you've done!" The man screamed. "Look what you've done! You'll clean this up, dammit, every drop!" The boots stomped away, leaving him a heaving mess on the floor, grateful for the brief reprieve. The sound of shouting and cursing assured him the worst was yet to come._

"Hey, you with me?" He opened his eyes to find Rick again, squatting in the floor next to him smacking his face lightly. "Take a deep breath."

Tony tried to calm down, to understand what had just happened. He hadn't experienced a flashback like that in decades. He felt washed out, the images clinging to him like a leftover dream.

"That happen very often?" Rick asked, sounding almost concerned.

"N..no," Tony answered honestly, too tired and disoriented to argue.

Rick nodded. "Get him back in position." With little ceremony Tony was hauled back onto his knees. Rick pushed his head down again, and this time Tony didn't fight him; he felt too confused and unsettled to do much of anything. Thankfully, the other slave trainers chose to ignore him for awhile, going about their business with the subs who were finishing their meal. Rick stayed next to him, his hand resting heavily on Tony's head.

Tony's mind drifted; he couldn't get away from the resurfaced memories of that horrendous summer when he was eleven, memories he had managed to lock away in a corner of his mind where he never ventured. His mother had been dead for several years, and his father was busily courting a very wealthy socialite who had no interest in spending time with little boys. When his father planned a trip abroad with his young fiancé, they left Tony at home with the Nanny, the one bright spot in his world, his beloved Rosie.

Unfortunately, Rosie's mother got sick after only a few weeks and she had to quit in order to take care of the invalid woman. There had been no one else to stay with him, and his father called on almost everyone he knew. Tony had started to fear he'd end up in an orphanage or the pound.

What happened next was worse than either of those possibilities.

The handyman, a fortyish man of questionable background, volunteered to stay at the house and watch Tony for the rest of the summer. He even offered to finish up some improvement projects his father wanted done.

DiNozzo Sr. had jumped at the suggestion with little or no thought about leaving his son with a stranger who had only been working for the family a few months, and only occasionally at that. His Dad had been too wrapped up in his business and girlfriend to really give it much thought.

The nightmare had started almost immediately. Zeke had made it clear that he was in charge, forcing Tony to sleep in his bed on the very first night. The verbal abuse and beatings had commenced the next day, and by the end of the weak, an innocent child had learned more about human anatomy than he'd ever wanted to know. Whenever Tony could sneak away he would hide, skinny arms curled around his shattered body, and cry. He had no access to money, Zeke removed all the phones except one he kept locked away, and Tony had no idea how to contact his father anyway. He was trapped in a terrifying hell with an abusive monster who took pleasure in tormenting him both physically and mentally.

For most of his life Tony had ignored the events of that summer, sometimes forgetting it had even happened. In time the flashbacks had stopped and the nightmares had ended. He no longer blamed himself, and had dealt with his anger at his father for the abject neglect. It wasn't quite forgiveness, but it was an improvement over the fierce hatred that had gripped him for years.

He had even seen the obituary announcing the death of Zeke Martin in a New York newspaper not so long ago, so he knew the man was dead and gone to a place where he couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

Why did it all have to force its way back to the surface now? This situation was bad enough on its own. He stared at the floor and concentrated on erasing the scared little boy who hadn't been able to say no, and replacing him with the federal agent who didn't take shit from anyone.

This time would be different; he'd fight back or die trying.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick leaned against the wall and watched the young man who seemed to have withdrawn into himself, lost in something from his past. He held himself stiffly, immobile – his unexpected reaction was the reason Rick had backed down, allowing him to regain his sense of composure for a few minutes. The older man had enough experience at this to recognize when someone was dealing with repressed memories.

The slave trainer had seen this type of response before in people who had suffered severe abuse. Somehow this situation had triggered a visceral recollection for DiNozzo and he had yet to shake off the effects. He filed away the observation to use to his advantage at another point in the training process.

In the past – before he embraced his darkest desires and learned how to use them for profit - he had been a much different person. He had worked as a psychology professor at a small college, studying the human mind and all its intricacies. But the academic life hadn't fulfilled him, hadn't made him feel alive and he had embarked on a quest for something more.

It was during that journey he discovered his talent for domination and for training subs in the lifestyle. It was the one thing that made him whole, made him feel significant and like he had a real purpose for existing. Some might question his decision to force unwilling men into a life of slavery, but he felt it was a higher calling. These young subs were being set free, allowed to reach a level of peace and tranquility that would never be possible in the regular world. They could let go of all their struggles and worry and gain joy in learning to serve their masters, without thought or question or concern. They would be cared for like a prized possession for the rest of their lives. It might be a tough road to get to that place in their minds, but that's where he came in – he could show them how to get there. It was a gift.

He watched the new boy take a deep breath and let it out slowly, tanned shoulders straightening slightly as DiNozzo re-centered himself. The NCIS agent was physically beautiful and emotionally complex, a stunning combination. He held his psyche together with an iron will, but that fortress would need to crumble so he could eventually experience the heights of his submission.

It would be a challenge to break him – a challenge Rick relished undertaking. DiNozzo would require a delicate touch, not so much as to push him over the edge too fast, but to slowly take him out of his comfort zone and into elements he'd never explore of his own free will. Rick suspected whatever secrets lay in his past had prevented him from ever acknowledging his hidden needs.

In a few months, Tony would take center stage at the next slave auction, and his sale would add to the small fortune Rick had already accumulated. Even though the D/s lifestyle had been accepted by mainstream society, slavery was still illegal, opening up a lucrative black market that he was taking full advantage of. Acquiring and training slaves for this growing subculture was a win-win for everyone concerned – even if his newest acquisition didn't see it that way yet.

One day, DiNozzo might even thank him it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs held up the drawing with a nod of approval. Abby and Ziva's combined description was enough to develop a very detailed depiction of the man they'd seen. Abby placed her hands on her hips.

"Don't even bother with going to the clubs, Gibbs. I think this is good enough to get an identification through facial recognition software. Give me thirty minutes and if there's something on him in any of the databases, I'll find it." She had more than recovered from her earlier teary eyed meltdown, and now stared at him with an air of fierce determination. Nothing was going to stop her from helping her best friend in the whole wide world.

"Go for it, Abs. You did good work." He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Both of you," he added, placing a soft peck on Ziva's cheek, too. The Israeli bobbled her head in surprise, rubbing the spot unconsciously even after Gibbs had headed back to the bullpen.

When Gibbs arrived at his desk, he found Fornell and Sacks deep in conversation with Vance. Fornell was obviously trying to keep his voice calm and professional while speaking to the Director of NCIS.

"No, I don't believe DiNozzo would run off with someone. I'm confident he's become a victim of our serial kidnapper. Based on the body we've recovered, I think it's safe to say his life is definitely in danger." There was a clipped quality to the FBI agent's voice that indicated his displeasure with Vance; Gibbs recognized the sound all too well from his own measured discussions with the man.

The Director shifted his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. "You have to admit there is no solid evidence DiNozzo's disappearance is in any way connected to the case you're investigating."

"You're kidding, right?" Gibbs stated, pushing his way next to Vance. "This is your idea of a practical joke. I didn't know you had such a highly developed sense of humor."

"The sarcasm isn't necessary, Agent Gibbs," the Director stated, meeting the blue gaze with a cold one of his own. "I'm simply pointing out the fact that we're jumping to the conclusion that Agent DiNozzo was abducted and didn't choose to leave on his own."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed and he shook his head quickly. "Every article of clothing he was wearing was stuffed in a trash can. Are you suggesting that he stripped naked and took off to parts unknown completely nude? Are you that out of touch with reality? Or do you simply dislike DiNozzo that much?"

McGee had been resolutely avoiding the conversation, but his head snapped up at the comment. Agent Sacks cautiously stepped away from the men, moving slowly across the room to put as much distance as possible between himself and the impending explosion.

"Now you listen to me Gibbs, I will not tolerate this insubordination….."  
>"No, <em>Director <em>Vance, you listen to me." Gibbs moved so close to the other man he was nearly stepping on the toes of his expensive designer shoes. Fornell took up the space behind Gibbs' left shoulder in a show of solidarity. "DiNozzo is in trouble and needs our help, this agency's help. I will not allow you to question that basic fact." Vance opened his mouth to speak, but Gibbs leaned into his ear and interrupted. "Mike Franks said to let him know if I have issues with you, and he'll make sure to set things straight. Do I need to make a call?"

Daggers shot from the Director's eyes, but Gibbs merely stared at him calmly. He had never intended to use the card Franks had offered him; today Leon pushed until he had no choice. This was about finding Tony as quickly as possible, not about grudges, or pride or anything else and he would do whatever it took to keep Vance in line.

The staredown ended when Abby bounded off the elevator followed by Ziva.

"GibbsGibbsGibbsGibbs!" the Goth repeated, obliviously inserting her body between the Director and team leader. "We know who he is already! McGee, hit the plasma!"

"Takeshi Nakamura," Ziva stated coolly, as the picture of a middle-aged Asian man with glasses appeared on the screen. "He is a wealthy Japanese businessman well known for his collections of all manner of rare items—he has purchased antiquities, jewelry, artwork, and a variety of other expensive and exotic pieces. He is currently in DC to attend an auction of ancient Egyptian artifacts. He was arrested previously on a domestic violence charge that was later dropped."

"McGee, Ziva, find out anything else you can on this man, specifically connected to human trafficking," Gibbs directed, throwing his coffee cup in the trash.

Vance turned after him. "You think DiNozzo was taken by sex traders?" There was a note of disbelief in his voice.

The silver-haired man unconsciously stole a glance at Tony's empty desk. He sincerely prayed that his gut reaction was wrong but currently the sex angle was the only one that made any sense. "It wasn't for money or information. What other reason is there?" he asked. The silence in the room was the only answer left.

"Where's Nakamura staying?" Gibbs asked McGee, who was already typing furiously on his keyboard. He turned away from Vance dismissively.

"Here you go, Boss." McGee handed him a slip of paper with an address written on it in McGee's neat script. "You want us to go with you?"

"I'll take Fornell, you two stick with working on the background. Call me if you find anything relevant." He strode toward the elevator. Fornell pointed at Sacks and motioned for him to stay as well

Vance followed after them.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. "You have no reason to suspect Mr. Nakamura's involved as far as I can tell. He's a high-profile member of the business community – I can't have you causing an incident by barging into his hotel room without probable cause."

Gibbs stopped. "It's called investigating, Leon. You might have a vague recollection of what that was like before you became a bureaucrat. Now get out of my way so I can go do my damn job."

Fornell raised his eyebrows and joined Gibbs in the elevator, leaving Vance behind.

"Don't do anything stupid, Gibbs," Vance admonished as the silver doors slid shut, cutting off anything else he might have said.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The other trainees had been taken into a small building for exercise; Tony was walking through the compound on the end of a leash held loosely by Rick. They were accompanied by a burly man cradling a snub nosed rifle in his arms who made it clear by his proximity that Tony was expected to follow orders without question. The leer on the goon's face as he surveyed up and down Tony's body also made it clear what else he had an interest in. Tony shifted to try and conceal his privates, wishing his hands were free so he could at least cover himself; despite his best efforts to ignore the stares he was uncomfortable with parading around in the open for everyone to see.

Rick reached out a hand to stop him from moving. "Never hide yourself; it's not allowed. Your body does not belong to you anymore, boy." He tapped the crop threateningly against his leather clad leg. "Don't make this lesson any more difficult than it has to be."

Tony's debate over what to do next was cut short by Rick's decision to continue walking. "Stay two steps behind me," he instructed. Tony thought about how he always walked behind Gibbs and wondered if there was any significance to that habit. The fact he was naked and being led around like a pet out for a morning stroll made him feel like a complete idiot.

He had done his best to shake off the foul mood left over from this morning's trip down memory lane. Normally he could seal off the emotions fairly quickly, but being in this place with these people, constantly reminded that he was under their control, made it impossible to use the kind of coping mechanisms he would usually employ. The fear of being raped never left his mind for more than a second.

To distract his chaotic thoughts, he focused all his energy on assessing the camp for any signs of weakness that might give him an opportunity for escape. The complex bustled with more activity than Tony would have imagined. He counted at least a dozen captives led about individually and in small groups.

Rick noticed his observations. "There are several dozen slaves currently in training, and at least that many staff. You've only met those assigned to your pod; at times you'll interact with other groups, but for the most part you will stay with the men in your building and with Steve and Josh, your assigned trainers."

Tony was reminded of his first few days at Ohio State when the coaches had shown him around campus, the main difference being that all the slaves were naked and bound. Rick acted like seeing naked men led around on leashes was the most normal thing in the world. Tony marveled at how people could convince themselves their warped version of reality was perfectly acceptable.

They entered a structure where several men monitored screens and communication equipment. Rick turned and met his eyes.

"Pay attention to this, boy; it's important you understand any illusions you have about escaping are futile." He pointed at a satellite display. "This image shows where our camp is located; we're hundreds of miles from the nearest town, surrounded by the lake on one side and the forest on the other. The only way to leave is by boat – swimming would be certain death and walking through the woods would take weeks. The entire perimeter is surrounded by razor wire fencing and there are tracking devices in your collars." He stepped close to Tony, gazing at him firmly. "I don't want you to get hurt; my job is to protect and teach you, but first I need you to comprehend the foolishness of trying to escape – there is nowhere to go." He hesitated for a moment, letting his words sink in as much as possible.

Tony set his jaw defiantly and tilted his chin in the air. Words weren't necessary to convey his rebellious attitude.  
>Rick gripped his chin tightly. "If you do try and leave, your punishment will be swift and severe. In the future, you will only be allowed to speak when given permission. However, I have found that new slaves assimilate better if they are fully aware of what is happening. I will grant you the indulgence to ask whatever is on your mind. Do you have any questions?" He released Tony's chin and waited.<p>

Tony let his eyes drift around the room, dropping into full on investigative mode. "This is a big time operation; armed guards patrolling the area, trainers, electronic equipment. How do you pay for all this?" He tried to do what he figured Gibbs would do; stay calm and gather as much intel as he could.

Rick smiled with pride. "Our services are very much in demand all over the world. We fulfill special requests from individuals as well as supply auction houses with well trained slaves. Of course, our unique niche is slaves who have a background in law enforcement. You'd be surprised at the number of Doms who want to live out a fantasy with a cop under their complete control, to use, humiliate, degrade." He laughed callously. "There is a great deal of money to be made in our endeavor."

Tony's blood boiled at the way Rick was so cavalier about the entire operation that was based on the kidnapping of individuals who had no desire to be here. He was going to thoroughly enjoy it when Gibbs busted these pricks. Regardless of the tension between them the past few months, he had no doubt that Gibbs would turn the world upside down and shake it in order to find him.

Rick paid no attention to Tony's rage, continuing to proclaim the virtues of his endeavor, pride filling his voice. "Many of those who work here are volunteers who have an interest in the lifestyle," he explained. "We aren't people who read Dr. Sawyers' book and bought a whip and pair of fuzzy handcuffs at the mall. We believe in this way of life and get a great deal of fulfillment from it. You'll understand soon, once you've started training." He smiled that enigmatic smile that made Tony shiver. Without warning, the crop flashed through the air and sliced the skin on his ass.

"Shit," Tony spat, jumping forward, his skin stinging as the crop connected several more times.

Rick shoved him against the wall. "Never forget, I am your Master and I can discipline you at any time, for any reason or no reason at all. You are a belonging, a possession, and the sooner you deal with your new status the sooner you'll find a sense of peace in your submission."

Tony didn't respond to the psychobabble, seeing no need to give him an answer; Rick was obviously crazy and he saw little point in engaging the man more than necessary.

Rick tugged on the leash and pulled him outside again like a dog. He tried to forget about the humiliation in favor of assessing his surroundings as they walked. There had to be a way out of here despite what Rick said; he refused to give up on the possibility.

DiNozzo noted the guards patrolling the outer edges of the compound; he counted four that he could see, but felt certain there were many more. The fence was difficult to make out in the thick layer of trees surrounding the outskirts of the area; he observed razor wire topping the high metal fencing, and several gatehouses rising into the treetops. A path wound through a break in the foliage; Tony suspected the dirt road led to the dock where the boat would be stored. "What did this place use to be?" he asked, hoping that detail might help him get a better grip on his chances. He processed the compound like his training had taught him; the knowledge might be the difference between freedom and captivity.

"The camp was originally built as a resort facility for wealthy families who wanted to get away from their regular lives for a while. It was closed fifteen years ago and our organization renovated it around five years ago."

"What are those?" Tony tilted his head at several large wooden structures in the center of the circle of buildings. He didn't realize he had stopped to stare until he felt that sharp sting on his backside again.

"Hey!" he cried, trying to ride out the lingering burn on his flesh.

"Move when I do," Rick admonished. "Always pay attention to your master; when he walks so do you. When he stops, you count to sixty and drop to your knees."

"I'm not going to kneel in the dirt," Tony responded as surly as possible. He was not going to perform like a sideshow act in the circus. This was bullshit.

Rick shook his head and swatted Tony again. DiNozzo was ready this time and tried to grab the tiny crop from the older man's hands before it made contact with his skin. The guard stepped forward, letting his weapon swing from the strap around his shoulders, and grabbed Tony's arms roughly, forcing him down on his knees despite his previous protest. Tony could feel rocks and sticks pushing into his kneecaps as he struggled to maintain some dignity.

Rick stepped in close, his breath hot in Tony's face as he hovered above his slave. "I understand you have an aversion to being hit; I'll soon make you tell me why."

Tony's eyes narrowed then grew wide.

"I know you've been hurt by someone, abused; it doesn't change what's expected of you here, it simply changes the way I'll handle you. You have to accept the punishment to realize how to enjoy the pleasure."

Tony opened his mouth to deny what Rick had said. There was no way he could know anything about it; Tony had never told anyone besides Rosie and his father and that had been over twenty-five years ago. He'd been careful to make sure no one knew, so nobody would ever even suspect. How could this stranger have figured out his darkest secret in no time flat?

His words dried up like dead autumn leaves when he saw the door to one of the buildings open and a crying man dragged out by Steve and Josh.

He recognized the slight young man who had been led past his cell earlier; the kid begged for them to stop as his silver cuffs were attached to posts in the center of the compound, his arms spread wide above his head. His legs were similarly attached to rings at the bottom of the posts.

With a sinking sensation Tony determined his question about the devices was about to be answered in so much vivid detail he might never be able to forget. Steve unfurled his whip and let it snap loudly in the air.

"Good," Rick said warmly. "You need to witness what happens to slaves who don't obey."

As the whip sliced the air and then ripped into the boy's broad back, a scream split the silence. While the boy sobbed and pleaded for mercy, Tony stayed on his knees and prayed that Gibbs and the team would find him and bring justice down on these cruel sadists.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was only a matter of time until he would face his own turn between those two posts.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Nakamura opened the door to his hotel room at the Adam's House with a frown. "How may I help you gentleman?"

Gibbs presented his badge; Fornell did the same. "We'd like to ask you a few questions," Gibbs stated softly.

The diminutive man smiled, slightly bemused. "I can't imagine how I could have attracted the attention of both the FBI and NCIS. Do, come in," he offered, stepping back to allow them access to the opulent suite. He crossed the floor with a confident swagger, pulling the belt of his thick red robe tightly around his small body.

The luxurious décor was offset by the sweaty, naked man kneeling next to the oversized sofa. The sub never raised his eyes as they approached. Clearly, the agents had interrupted the evening's entertainment.

Gibbs immediately noticed the swollen lips and blackened eye of the nameless man in the floor, who might have been attractive under other circumstances. Bruises, abrasions and scars stood out starkly on his pale bare back. He wondered if the young man was with Nakamura voluntarily; if he wasn't, it was a crime.

Fornell followed Gibbs' gaze and swallowed thickly.

"We're investigating an incident at a club you were seen at recently; does The Cage ring a bell?" the FBI agent asked bluntly.

Nakamura thinned his lips and walked to the mini-bar, picking up a glass before adding ice and pouring amber colored liquid from a small bottle. He took a drink and closed his eyes before answering.

"Yes, I was at The Cage. If you're here to ask questions about the fight, I can assure you I saw everything. The lovely young man with the green eyes was completely innocent in the matter; it was the other man who started the incident." He smiled at them both, gliding to the couch where he sat down, crossed his legs, and carded his fingers through the slave's shaggy brown hair. The man leaned his head against Nakamura's knee, letting out a long sigh.

Gibbs chose to ignore them. "The green eyed man is my agent and he's disappeared; we were wondering if you might shed some light on his whereabouts since you were observed taking a rather significant interest in him."

A slow smile appeared on Nakamura's lips. "I'll have to admit I found him outrageously attractive – surely the two of you agree?" Neither agent responded to the taunt. "Regardless, he seemed rather uninterested in doing anything more than spending time with his friends. He turned me down flat. There isn't much more I can tell you."

His hand lazily stroked the sub's hair, stopping every now and then to curl into the strands and tug. The sub made a face but no sounds, instead biting his lip and trying to sink his head lower, become more unobtrusive. A hard pull forced the drooping head back up.

Gibbs' teeth clenched as he studied the man. He watched the hand that gripped and pulled without concern for his companion's discomfort. Unless Nakamura admitted it, nothing connected him to Tony, but that didn't stop Gibbs from feeling something was off. This man was a collector of things, of objects, why not people? Tony would be a unique, rare addition to his collection.

Nakamura smiled again, and Gibbs could see the knowledge in his gleaming eyes as he took another sip from his drink. _He knows._

Gibbs locked his gaze on the mute submissive. "Are you being forced to stay here? Slavery is illegal, and he can't keep you against your will." If the kid admitted to being held by force, they could arrest Nakamura immediately.

They boy shrank back, mortified. His frightened eyes frantically jumped from Gibbs to Nakamura. He shook his head hesitantly, indicating he was here by choice.

The Asian snorted at the exchange. "Do not get involved in what is none of your business, Agent Gibbs. This boy wants to be my sub, and that is no concern of your agency."

It only took a moment for Gibbs to cross the floor and grip the front of the gauche robe; he had a good six inches of height on the Asian, and he lifted the surprised man off the floor and shook him. Nakamura's mouth dropped open in a surprised circle and he dropped his glass to the floor. The sub skittered backward, trying to move to an area of safety.

"Tell me where he is." Gibbs' voice was low and menacing; he shoved the small man around the couch and toward the balcony - with one hand he slid the door open and herded Nakamura out to the railing where he pushed the protesting man against the cold metal. "I said for you to tell me where he is."

"You're fucking insane!" Nakamura screamed. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Let me go before I fall!" Instead of letting go, Gibbs shoved more until the tiny toes were no longer on the floor and Nakamura was bent over the railing, arms flailing in the air. "Help, before he drops me!"

"Gibbs! Sit him the fuck down!" Fornell yelled frantically, laying a hand on Gibbs' arm, where the former marine's muscles bunched and quivered from the weight he was holding. "This isn't helping anyone, especially not DiNozzo!"

"Tell me," Gibbs hissed.

Nakamura looked down at him and stopped moving, his body utterly still. His nostrils flared and his lips drew into a snarl. If looks could really kill, Gibbs would be dead on the spot.

"Put me down or drop me, you bastard."

The pause stretched out while Gibbs considered his options; the little shit wasn't going to tell him anything and if he killed him, there was nothing he could do to help Tony from the inside of a jail cell.

Reluctantly, Gibbs sat the Asian on the floor. The man immediately ran inside the hotel room. "I will have your damn badge, you crazy psychopath! Get out, get out now!" He flung the door open and waited for them to leave; the sub huddled in a corner, trying to stay out of the way.

Fornell shoved Gibbs out of the room and into the hallway. The FBI agent turned to try and salvage what he could of the debacle. "Mr. Nakamura, I apologize for Agent Gibbs…."

"Do not apologize; I will make sure your superiors know exactly what happened here." He slammed the door in their faces, his own expression twisted with fury.

Fornell ran a hand through his hair. "That went well," he said finally.

Gibbs simply turned and walked away. He'd lost his temper and completely screwed this up; there was every chance Vance would take the opportunity to fire him for it. And without the sanction of NCIS to back him up, his chances of finding Tony plummeted from slim to none.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony lay on the narrow pallet, his feet dangling off the edge and his arm wrapped protectively around his aching ribs. He tried to drown out the sobbing that had been going on for hours. The hysterical young man in the cell down the hall had been inconsolable since the whipping, intermittently moaning, crying, and shouting incoherently.

Tony stared at the ceiling and relived the events he'd witnessed today that rolled through his mind like a bad rerun he couldn't turn off.

Steve had uncoiled his whip, letting it drop heavily to the ground before he snapped it loudly. Then he'd commenced to whip the frightened man, searing red, bloody stripes into his creamy white skin. Tony had been mesmerized by the winding, snake-like leather as it slashed its way across the slave's exposed back. The boy had screamed, begged for it to stop, but Steve never hesitated as he punished the submissive, working him over like an artist painting a blank canvas.

Tony had leaned forward, desperate to do something to stop the gruesome scene, but found himself pulled backward by the leash Rick held tightly. The slave master wrapped the lead securely around his hand, taking up any slack until Tony was forced up against him, his naked body pressed into Rick's soft leather pants. His anger at the injustice of the situation bubbled to the surface and he made a low, feral sound in his throat.

The guard shifted, lowering his weapon so it pointed toward Tony.

"Why are you doing this?" DiNozzo asked forcefully. "What did he do wrong?"

"He begged his master not to fuck him yesterday," Rick replied, turning Tony's body so he could see more clearly, not letting him look away – Steve grinned sadistically and the boy shook, the muscles in his shoulders hunched together against the painful blows. "His master, in this case Steve, selects the punishment, and he needs to learn how to take it without losing control. You need to see this so you can understand what it means to be a slave, to know what you're expected to accept. None of you have a choice anymore." Rick let his hand rest firmly on the back of Tony's neck. "I've gone easy on you today so you could get your bearings. Tomorrow, your training really begins."

There was no way Tony could ever deal with being tied up and beaten like that while everyone around him stopped and stared. The desperate sobs seared their way into his brain. They followed him across the compound, through the dinner he wasn't allowed to eat, and back into this cell where he was locked in for the night.

Tony's tawny skin was crisscrossed with red streaks from Rick's ever present crop; it was nothing compared to the kid's flesh that looked like it had been chewed up by a weed eater. Tony wished he could offer some kind of comfort, but there was nothing he could do except listen to the man's suffering.

How long was it going to take Gibbs to find him? Would he be able to avoid a similar punishment? Tony doubted it; he could barely hold it together now. It wasn't going to take much for him to snap. He rolled on his side and tried to get comfortable despite the bruises and abrasions that littered his body.

_"DiNozzo men don't cry." _He could hear his father's voice clear as day, the words spoken to him in the hospital after he ran away from Zeke, after the horrible experience was over, while he was curled into a ball trying his best to disappear and make the whole thing vanish with him. He had done his very best to follow Senior's directive, to hold all the pain inside, to never let it show. He had made the mask of indifference so much a part of him that he no longer knew where the fake Tony ended and the real Tony began.

He closed his eyes and wondered if Gibbs would get there before he had a mental breakdown. He had a feeling that once the floodgates to his past opened nothing could ever shut them again. It was the price to be paid for a lifetime of self-deception and denial.

The only consolation he could find came from imagining what Gibbs intended to say to him at his apartment. He pretended he was going to hear all the words he'd always wanted someone to say and really mean them. _You're irreplaceable, Tony. Stay with me. I love you._ Just a few days ago, he would have never thought such a thing was possible. Now he might never know.

When he eventually fell asleep, he fitfully dreamed about the summer when he turned eleven, and the monsters that, no matter how hard he fought them, never truly went away.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Notes: Thanks for continuing to read and review! The story really goes into some dark places now, but I want to assure you this isn't going to be thirteen more chapters of Gibbs trying to find Tony. The plot makes a shift in a few chapters that moves things in a somewhat different direction that I think you'll appreciate.**_

_**Continue to let me know if you're enjoying it; I really love to hear from you!**_

_**WARNING: BDSM, slash, non-con, dub-con, intense adult situations.**_

Ziva watched Gibbs out of the corner of her eye, continually fascinated by the man who was so unlike anyone else she had ever known. Her father was all bluster and arrogance, her brothers had been hot-headed and impulsive, her lovers had been distant and cold. Gibbs could be all these things at times, yet the sum of his parts was so much greater than these individual pieces.

He was without a doubt the best man she had ever been lucky enough to have in her life.

Although impulsivity born of a bad temper could sometimes land him in hot water, like today, he also possessed the capacity to settle in for a long wait, exhibiting the kind of patience most people did not possess. It was as if he fought to get to this point, but once he accepted that patience would be required, he embraced it and let it filter through his entire being.

She supposed this is what he had been like as a sniper, hiding in the brush or the dense jungle for hours, maybe even days, tolerantly anticipating that split second shot, when it was all or nothing and everything was on the line. He was a true predator, similar to a panther whose ferocity wasn't known until he sprang from his rest to attack his prey.

The panther sat as his desk, ramrod straight, hand curled around a cup of coffee that he sipped from occasionally. He didn't pretend to be working, didn't stare mindlessly at his computer screen, doodle, or busy himself with paperwork. He merely sat, watching, waiting, and, she had no doubt, planning what he was going to do next.

An instant message appeared on her computer screen.

_What do you think Vance will do to him? _McGee asked. Ziva let her dark eyes flip up to her partner, who glanced at her surreptitiously, while continuing to type on his keyboard.

_I do not know, but Nakamura appeared to be very angry when he and his attorney arrived. It is possible Gibbs might be fired for this type of action,_ she responded. _I heard Fornell tell Sacks that Gibbs dangled Nakamura off a balcony._

_I've never seen him this upset, except for maybe after Kate died, and then he had Tony around to take some of the edge off, _McGee continued. _How long has been sitting like that?_

_Since he sent Fornell and Sacks away – about an hour? He has not said a word._

The phone on Gibbs' desk rang, abruptly breaking the silence. "I'll be right there," he said, before standing up and draining the last of what must have been very cold coffee. He crushed the cup and threw it in the trash as he strode to the stairs without looking at either of them.

When he disappeared onto the second floor, McGee walked over to Ziva's desk. "What will you do if Vance fires him? Will you stay and work for someone else?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "No, I do not believe so," she replied honestly. What would be the point? "And you?"

McGee twisted his mouth and let his shoulders slump. "I guess I'd look for a transfer to another team, maybe do something in cybercrimes." He picked up the small American flag from her desk and twirled it in his fingers. "I don't think I'll do much of anything until we find Tony. I can't imagine moving on until he's back, you know? He might annoy the hell out of me some days, but I still owe him a lot. He wouldn't quit looking for either one of us."

Ziva blinked a few times and nodded. She had to admit that despite all of Tony's faults, loyalty was not among them. She could count her true friends on the fingers of one hand, and Tony was among the few who held that special place in her heart. "You are right, of course. I would stay until we know what happened to him, as well. Let us hope that is not a decision we have to make, yes?"

McGee returned the flag to her desk. "Yes," he agreed, sitting back down.

Ziva sighed. Now it was their turn to wait.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs slammed his way into the second floor men's room; the man standing at the urinal took one look at him in the mirror, zipped up, and fled quickly. The lead agent walked over to the sink and splashed water on his face, blotting it off with a paper towel.

The meeting could have gone worse, he supposed. Nakamura's attorney had demanded his immediate firing, which Vance, to his credit and Gibbs' surprise, refused to do, spouting something about Gibbs being under 'extreme emotional distress' due to his close friendship to his missing agent. Nakamura had fumed, his beady eyes darting from face to face as his cheeks grew redder when he realized he wasn't going to get his way. Gibbs couldn't stop a chuckle when the small man stamped his foot like a disappointed child.

Ultimately, Vance had to take some type of punitive action. They compromised on a two-week suspension without pay and a reprimand in his file. That didn't bother him as much as being told he could no longer investigate Tony's case, and the rest of the team was being pulled, too. The investigation would be turned over to another NCIS team and they were to stay out of it.

Nakamura had ranted vehemently in Japanese, clearly displeased with the outcome of events. As he stomped away, continuing to rave, Gibbs acknowledged to himself that he should have never lost control earlier. He'd allowed that smug, shit-eating grin to push him over the edge; in his gut he had no doubt Nakamura knew exactly where to find Tony. They would never get the Asian businessman to talk since he could hide behind his money, his power, and his friends.

After he finally proved Nakamura's involvement, he might actually drop him off the balcony. It gave him something to look forward to.

Ziva and McGee stared expectantly as he reentered the bullpen, however they both had been with him long enough to not immediately ask what Vance had decided. They gazed when he went to his desk and shut down his computer, straightened a few papers, and turned to face them.

"Been suspended for two weeks," he announced without preamble. "Vance has my badge and gun. You two are on cold cases until I get back."

"What about Tony?" McGee asked. "We can't just quit looking for him."

Gibbs thought it was fairly impressive that their Probie had grown a spine without him seeing it. _It would've never happened without Tony._ The senior field agent's specter cast a shadow over everything they did.

"His case has been assigned to another team." Gibbs headed to the elevator. "I gotta go tell Ducky and Abby. Meet me for lunch at the Chinese place down the street."

The silver doors closed and he shut his eyes briefly. They were a good team, and he despised dragging them into his less than sanctioned plans. But there was no way in hell he was going to sit on his ass while Tony's fate rested in the hands of another team. He'd give them the opportunity to bow out if they wanted, and wouldn't hold it against any of them if they did. His own career didn't mean shit to him right now, but they had their futures to consider.

When he entered autopsy, Ducky smiled at his arrival. "Ah, Jethro, I assume you want to know if I've been able to gather any new information from our poor marine." The ME stepped back and frowned. "I'm sorry to say, but there is nothing new. This young man has been quite uncooperative with revealing any of his secrets, such as who was responsible for his death and why." The doctor stopped talking when he saw the dour expression on his colleague's face. "I take it there is something else you've come to see me about."

Gibbs curled his lips back and let out a huff of breath through his teeth. "I got a little carried away with a suspect in Tony's disappearance. Vance suspended me for two weeks and ordered me off the case."

Ducky walked next to his long-time friend and put a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "That is a complication. What do you intend to do now?"

"Use my free time wisely. I need to talk to Abby then I want everyone to meet at Mr. Chow's." He turned to leave.

"Jethro," the ME called, and Gibbs stopped. "I can imagine how you must be feeling right now. Even though you and Anthony were never officially more than co-workers, it doesn't take a psychic to see how you take a great deal of unofficial responsibility for him. I often wondered if perhaps there was more to it than meets the eye….."

"Not now, Duck," Gibbs responded, not turning around to let his long time friend have a chance to see if his comment had hit a mark. "The only thing I want to think about is getting him back. I'll deal with anything else later." He continued his progress out the door, already around the corner by the time the doctor let out an exasperated sigh.

Gibbs found Abby working silently; the lack of music was never a good sign where the Goth was concerned.

Abby's shoulders were tight, her head bowed. Gibbs came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her thin frame.

"Did you get fired?" she whispered.

"Nope. Suspended. Two weeks."

"What are you going to do about Tony?"

"I need some help with that," he answered in her ear. "Wanna go for a walk with me?"

Abby's head shot up at the unusual request. "Sure."

The two of them exited the building and headed for the sidewalk leading to the river.

"I need you to do something for me, but if you say no I'll understand," Gibbs explained as he leaned against the railing. "I need a false identification set up; name, background, the works."

Abby crossed her arms, considering his request. "You plan on looking for Tony without backup?"

"There's no other way. Vance isn't going to approve anything beyond a bare bones investigation. I need to go in deeper if there's any chance of finding out what happened to DiNozzo."

Abby smiled at him weakly. "You know I'll do anything I can to help. You just have to promise to be careful. I couldn't stand losing both of you."

He reached out and took her hand. "I'm always careful."

She grinned and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Rrrright. When does this off the grid op get started?"

"Tonight," he answered. "Come on. It's time for lunch."

Abby didn't let go of his hand as they strolled down the pier, light glinting off the water.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony sat in the corner of the room, once again on his knees with his hands secured behind his back. He tried not to squirm, since he already had enough stripes from Rick's riding crop to qualify him as an exotic animal. Besides, the cage in the other corner was not a place he wanted to spend any amount of time. His stomach grumbled, and he ignored the ever-present hunger pangs and dry mouthed thirst; this morning he refused again to kiss Rick's boots, so there was no substantial food or water anywhere on the horizon for him. He vaguely wondered if they would actually let him starve to death or die from dehydration just to prove who was in charge.

_Training. _He still couldn't quite get his head around it. Steve, Josh, Rick, and several other self-ordained masters selected subs and worked them over using the various pieces of equipment in the room where he had been brought after exercise time. Tony wasn't completely naïve and oblivious, he quickly recognized the spanking bench, St. Andrew's cross, and many of the devices currently occupied by the men he'd been confined with.

He wanted to close his eyes, but every time he tried to take a mental break someone noticed and swatted him with the crop or whatever else they had nearby; snot-nosed Josh even liked to use the back of his hand. There was barely a spot on his body that hadn't been hit with something, and he was certain by the time he got to lay down on his cot again he'd be sore from head to toe. Even the position of kneeling had strained his muscles in ways that protested with cramps and aches. Still, he was so much better off in his out of the way spot than the other 'slaves' in the room.

One man had been secured to the spanking bench and was flogged by Josh, before the slimy young trainer dropped his pants and buried his dick in the marine's ass, the sound of groaning filling the room until Josh screamed, "Oh, yeah," and fell on top of his victim.

Another slave received similar treatment on the St. Andrew's Cross, a cock ring keeping him hard when he was told not to come while he was stroked and petted. Eventually Steve sucked him off with a wicked grin on his face, all the while denying him the pleasure of release. The slave hung in his bonds and panted, apparently torn between his physical needs and the desire to follow his master's instructions.

Tony watched it all in a mild state of shock; it was systematic abuse, and the abusers justified it by calling it _training. _If he could get his hands on one of their guns he'd show them training they'd never forget. Cold rage burned through his veins like none he'd ever felt before. He knew what it was like to be the recipient of abuse you couldn't stop, and he doubted if it would trouble him at all to shoot each and every one of these pricks point blank in the head. After it was over he'd probably make a sandwich and take a nap.

The poor boy who had been whipped the day before was the next lucky soul to attract their attention; Steve screamed at the young man to get hard, but the kid's uncooperative penis lay flaccid and limp with no intention of playing on command. For some reason the trainers seemed to be harder on this man than the rest, and Tony wondered if they were trying to make an example of him to keep the others in line. If that was the case, it appeared to be working, since none of the other slaves had made the tiniest effort to disobey. Tears trickled from the boy's eyes as he apologized and whimpered, standing in front of his tormenters with his hands and feet spread wide by bars. The longer it went on the angrier Steve became, grabbing a paddle and repeatedly striking the boy on his thighs and buttocks, demanding he behave like a slave was supposed to. It was complete insanity, and Tony couldn't stand the sight of it any more.

"Stop it!" Tony yelled, shaking all over. "Can't you see you're only scaring him? How the hell do you expect him to react when all you do is scream in his face and beat him? What the fuck is wrong with you people?"

Steve turned his furious glare in Tony's direction, and DiNozzo realized he probably should have kept his mouth shut. It was too late for that now, though, so he'd take advantage and maybe the frightened kid could pull himself back together again while the attention had turned in his direction. He was used to deflecting things onto himself, anyway.

Steve turned to Rick, who silently nodded his approval, and the muscle bound man stalked over to Tony, who refused to lower his gaze, meeting Steve's glare with his own.

"Unlock these cuffs and I'll show you an ass-kicking you'll never forget," Tony seethed, completely indifferent to the consequences of his actions. These people were absolutely out-of-their minds crazy and he refused to give in to their demands. "You won't fight me one-on-one like a real man will you? It's easy when you've got everybody all tied up with guns pointed at them. No wonder you can't get anybody hard."

"You like working that mouth, don't you princess? Well I promised to show you what that mouth is good for." He leaned over and pressed a hard kiss to Tony's lips. When he pulled away, Tony spat at him, grinning at the saliva Steve wiped away with the back of his hand.

That hand swept forward and connected with Tony's cheek, the sting burning deep into his skin. Steve grabbed Tony's hair and pulled him forward with one hand, the trainer fumbling to release the button on his pants with the other.

Tony's anger receded enough for him to figure out that he was in deep shit. His mind went absolutely blank and his body went totally numb. It was like he separated from himself and floated away, watching the entire scene from somewhere high above near the ceiling.

He heard the zipper on Steve's pants, saw the man's engorged dick fall out of the leather and bounce in front of him, felt the meaty flesh slap against his chin, tasted the salty pre-cum leaking from the tip. He gagged, bile rushing up his throat, the acid eating his esophagus.

"You puke on me and I'll make you lick it up like a dog," Steve threatened, pushing his cock past Tony's lips and into his mouth.

Tony tried to jerk his head back, but Steve shoved him closer, the tip jamming the back of his throat. He strained against the cuffs, letting them dig into his skin as he struggled for some kind of control.

Tony couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't accept this was real. He heard someone wail and realized it was him. Zeke was there again, slamming into him while tears ran down his face and snot ran out of his nose. It was a dream, a nightmare, an out-of-body experience. His chest heaved painfully as he tried to find air, but there wasn't any and his lungs stabbed with each aborted attempt.

His mouth filled with something thick, wet, and slick; Steve cried out his pleasure. "Fuck, yes," he said, pulling Tony's hair again, before slipping out.

Immediately Tony vomited in the floor, causing Steve to jump back. He swayed on his knees as black dots danced in front of his eyes and he struggled to not pass out.

Rick was there, grabbing his upper arms and steadying him. "Take it, Tony, take it because we want you to." But Tony couldn't take it, he couldn't, not again, not like before. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself.

"I can't…..I can't breathe," he whispered, feeling his body disconnect and drift away once more. It was much easier than dealing with the here and now.

"You're hyperventilating. You have to calm down." Someone unhooked the cuffs and a blanket was thrown over him. "Don't breathe so fast."

Gibbs. He needed Gibbs here. Gibbs could always help him get things under control again. "How did Zeke get…..here….he's…he's dead." Tony mumbled. He wasn't making sense; it wasn't Zeke who had just…..oh, god, what had been done to him? He vomited again, ignoring the disjointed yelling around him while his stomach twisted itself into knots.

For the first time since he had been brought here, he was truly and completely terrified that he might not survive until Gibbs found him.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Abby opened the door to Gibbs' house without knocking; the door, always unlocked, swung open easily. "Gibbs?" she called out, not sure whether to head down to the basement or upstairs to the bedroom.

"Up here," he called back.

_Bedroom. _She bounded up the stairs and found Gibbs placing neatly folded clothes into a rucksack lying open in the floor.

"You got what I need?" he asked, pausing to look at her.

"It's all right here." She waved a large manila envelope at him.

"Let's see your handiwork." He sat down and patted a spot on the bed next to him.

Abby smiled and plopped down with her thigh pressed against his, Gibbs' warm body a comfort against her fear and anxiety. She had already lost Tony; she couldn't stand the thought of losing Gibbs, too. Regardless, she hadn't hesitated to do her part to help Tony, and neither had Ziva, McGee, or Ducky. Opening the envelope, she removed the contents and showed them to her silver haired boss.

"One fake driver's license, just as ordered." He took the piece of plastic to inspect it. "Ziva came up with the name – I thought it was a good choice."

A picture of him beside the name Leroy Jackson peered back. "Nice touch."

"If anyone runs your prints they'll find out you're a retired marine corps drill sergeant who's been working security the last few years in bdsm clubs. Will that work?"

"That'll do," he answered. "If Vance or anyone else starts snooping, you switch everything back, you got it? I don't want you getting in any kind of trouble over this. Don't worry about me; I can take care of myself." He slipped his own ID out of his wallet and slid the new one in its place. "The only person you have permission to tell is Fornell. Got it?"

"I got it," she replied glumly. Next she handed over several sheets of paper. "McGee tracked Nakamura's recent credit card activity to establish a list of clubs he's gone to since he's been in the states. He goes out a lot, and mostly frequents what we know as leather bars - very old school establishments with strict guidelines as far as Dom and sub behavior is concerned."

"That's good work, Abs." Gibbs kissed her cheek. "Now I need to get ready." He picked up some clothes laid out on his dresser, waiting for her to take the hint and leave. Abby, curious what Gibbs' undercover persona would choose to wear, scooted back on the bed and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I'll just wait until you're ready. You could use a critique on the outfit. I am an expert in this particular area."

"Abs…."

"Go on now," she advised sagely. "I'll stay right here."

Gibbs shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom. Her decision to wait had been a good one; she gave him a low wolf whistle when he came back out. "Wow, Boss, you're really hot! Not that you don't always look good, with the polos and tshirts and khakis, but this – I'm speechless! Well, not exactly speechless, but more like seriously impressed. Who knew you had this in you?" Standing, she circled him to get a better view. He had on leather pants, a tight black t-shirt, and black boots. A silver chain hung off his belt, he wore a silver bracelet on his wrist, and a silver necklace, too. His hair, a little longer than normal, was combed to the side and spiked some, giving him a modern, edgy vibe. Abby let her mouth drop open before her red lips curved up in appreciation. "Gosh, Gibbs, if you dressed this way for work we'd have to close down the building due to your supreme sexual energy. Poor Tony would probably go into an apoplectic state of shock!"

Gibbs chuckled, low and deep. "Give me a break, ok Abs? I gotta be able to fit in with these people if I'm going to have any hope of finding Tony. Believe me, once this is over you'll never see these clothes again."

The Goth pouted, her lip stuck out a bit. "Fine. But promise me you'll be careful. And safe. And you'll call me."

"I promise Abby. Now get out of here so I can get going. The sooner I start the sooner we find our wayward senior field agent."

"You know, Gibbs," she told him as they walked toward the front of his house. "I lost a puppy when I was a kid. It ran away, and I looked everywhere trying to find it. I even put up signs around the neighborhood. Finally I had to give up and accept Buddy – that was his name, Buddy - was gone. Anyway, about a year later, I saw some kid walking a dog that looked just like mine down the street. I was so excited, I started calling his name, but he didn't come to me. Just cocked his head and stared for a while before trotting away after his new owner. He'd forgotten me, Gibbs. You have to find Tony before he has a chance to forget us and how much we need him and love him. I couldn't bear to get him back and have him not remember that he's ours."

"I won't let him forget, Abby. I swear." He got in the Challenger and started the engine, giving her a quick wave.

Abby watched him back down the driveway, not moving until his brake lights faded into the distance, and he was really, truly gone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony sat up and unconsciously wiped at his mouth, scrubbing at the bruises on his swollen and puffy lips. He gazed around the room appraisingly. His fear had slowly been replaced by anger again, and he wasn't about to accept this situation without fighting it every way he could find. It was one thing to be abused as a child; as an adult, he refused to believe this was his inevitable fate.

The room was pitch dark; the only sounds came from the soft footfalls of patrolling guards and the equally quiet breathing of the other slaves in cells up and down the hall. It was impossible for him to sleep after what had happened this evening. They had given him a few sips of water before locking him back in here, but it was barely enough to wet his mouth let alone wash away the putrid taste of Steve's cum. He gagged involuntarily and worked up enough moisture to spit into the corner.

He forced his mind away from the memory, unwilling to give in and puke again. Despite his best efforts, his stomach churned and he was almost grateful that he hadn't eaten in awhile. Watching what had been done to the other men in the training room today – Tony had no illusions that what he'd experienced was only the beginning and he was eventually going to be raped. He supposed to a certain degree he already had been.

Even if he got out of this place, was he ever going to feel the same about sex again? It had taken years to get over the hang ups Zeke had instilled in him – this might prove impossible to overcome, and he knew it.

Tony's mind immediately shifted to Gibbs, and that unexpected moment when the older man had pushed him against the wall of the elevator. He had reacted without thought, his entire body humming to life at the close proximity and dominant sexual energy rolling off the older man, all directed straight at him. It had been the most arousing feeling he had experienced in years. And all those possibilities had been shot to hell by this detour into crazy land.

Would he ever get to find out where that intense encounter between him and Gibbs was going to lead? What if Gibbs thought he'd left because he didn't want to take the next step? What if by the time he got out of here there wasn't enough left of him to ever go back to the life he had before?

For a split second Tony could see Zeke passed out in the floor, and the knife he'd held over his tormentor's body. It had required all the willpower in his eleven year old body not to plunge the knife into his tormenter's chest and never stop. Instead he ran, and in a way he'd never stopped. Not until he met Gibbs.

In the last few months, he'd almost thrown away everything he'd built with the former marine, but it was like he'd been pushed by unseen forces, incapable of doing anything else. The more Gibbs had pulled away, the more compelled he'd been to bring the lead agent closer any way he could. He supposed he couldn't live without the connection they had, even if it was manifested through head slaps, glares, and the rare 'atta boy.' He needed Gibbs, like the food and water he was currently being denied, in any way he could have him in his life.

Tony walked over to the cell door and looked out, seeing nothing more than a shadowy figure at the end of the hall. There had to be a way out of here, although he hadn't noticed any weaknesses in their set-up during his tour around the camp. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth again, wishing in vain the taste would go away. Moving back to the wafer thin cot he sat and drew his knees up to his chest, trying to keep warm. He wouldn't let Rick and Steve break him. Gibbs would eventually find him, and he had to keep it together until then. They had too much left to resolve between them to give up now, and he wouldn't let Gibbs find a sniveling mess when he got here.

Love, sex, hope – these people took the basic elements of life and turned them into diseased and dirty cancers. For the first time in years he debated whether he should have killed Zeke when he had the chance so one less hateful creature soiled the earth.

It was a mistake he wouldn't make twice. If – no, when - the chance presented itself, he would take out Steve, Rick, and any of the rest of these animals that he could.

He let that thought soothe him as he stared quietly into the darkness.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The car in front of him pulled into the parking lot and found a space; Gibbs eased his own vehicle in slowly, cautious to avoid detection. Nakamura got out, along with the driver and his slave, the barely dressed young man moving stiffly as he was tugged along on his leash. The twenty-something boy was so thin his ribs poked through his translucent skin; he held his hands at his sides and kept his eyes downcast, following the feet of the man in front of him. Faded bruises marked his body.

It was hard to tell if the guy was with his owner voluntarily or not; his face held little to no emotion. According to McGee's research, all of Nakamura's other slaves, subs, boyfriends, whatever you wanted to call them, ended up dying under some fairly strange circumstances. If Nakamura killed them, his current slave didn't stand much of a chance either. The agent considered what it took to make someone so subservient, so willing to become dependent on another, to the point of risking death. He might be a Dom, but he had no desire to have a relationship with a mindless zombie afraid to be an independent person. He needed the excitement and challenge from a partner who could tease and push, who benefited from his calm direction and guidance, not someone out looking for pain and punishment.

Maybe he needed a sub who got a lot from a gentle head slap or two.

He prayed that wherever Tony was right now he wasn't getting himself in trouble. Knowing DiNozzo, he doubted that was possible. Regardless, he would be there to help Tony pick up the pieces and move forward with life once he found him. And he would find him.

Gibbs didn't want his best lead to get suspicious, so he stayed in the car, waiting, not exactly sure what he was waiting for. A break he guessed. Deciding it was time to take care of another aspect of his undercover op while he had the opportunity, he opened his cell phone and dialed a number he hadn't used in quite a while, starting the conversation with a firm hello.

"Jethro? Is that really you?"

"I need a favor," Gibbs stated crisply.

"Anything for my favorite gunny. What can I do?"

Gibbs smiled. He didn't have a lot of close friends, but the ones he did have were the kind worth keeping. Andrew had served with him in Desert Storm; after returning to the civilian world he had bought D/s clubs in various cities throughout the country. The clubs were classy, high end establishments with exclusive clientele. When Gibbs had stopped being very active in the lifestyle, the two men had drifted apart some, but that didn't mean his friend wasn't there when called on.

"I might need you to give me a recommendation at some point," he explained.

Andrew laughed. "No problem. What am I recommending you for?"

"A submissive trainer."

Silence greeted him on the other end of the phone. "Did you quit your day job? I thought you liked it at NCIS."

"No, I need to make some connections for a case I'm working. I suspect there's a group kidnapping submissive military men and law enforcement officers to sell as slaves. Seems like there's a market for that particular fetish. I'm trying to get on the inside of their organization, try to close them down if I can." He didn't see any reason to complicate matters by explaining the situation with him and Tony. He'd tell Andrew about that later when they could discuss it properly.

"I've heard some gossip about these guys; nothing concrete, and they usually stay with the harder core clubs. Makes me sick to think about it – of course I'll help out."

"Good. I'm not using my real name; if anyone calls they'll ask about Leroy Jackson."

"Your dad would be so proud. I'll make up something good to say about you, don't worry." His voice was tinged with amusement.

"You better. I didn't haul your ass out of that desert for nothing."

"Believe me, my ass is still very grateful. You make sure you cover that fine ass of yours, alright?"

"Always," Gibbs replied, and ended the call.

Picking up his thermos, Gibbs sipped coffee and settled in. He had to believe that Nakamura would eventually lead him to something. He'd give it a few days, and if nothing turned up, he could always sneak into the man's hotel room and torture the information out of him. As far as he could tell, the 'businessman' didn't deserve any better treatment anyway.

Ultimately, he'd find out what happened to DiNozzo or he wouldn't be going back to the Navy Yard any time soon. And Nakamura…..he just might disappear himself.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony's stomach grumbled angrily; the smell of breakfast made him salivate like a starving dog. They had given him a few more sips of water, he supposed to stave off complete dehydration, but nothing at all to eat except a slice of bread since he continued to refuse to obey Rick's command to willingly kiss his feet.

The slave who had been so brutally beaten and fucked over the past few days appeared to have broken completely, and was nestled next to Steve's leg like a puppy. The welts on his back were still red and livid, but they appeared to have been treated with some type of cream. The trainer petted him profusely, rubbing his soft blonde curls affectionately. The boy practically preened at the attention, smiling shyly with a rosy blush on his cheeks. "Fuck," Tony muttered to himself from his position trussed up and kneeling on the floor of the dining hall. "He's gone totally Stepford."

"Did you say something, boy?" Rick's voice appeared behind him seconds before the riding crop stung his feet like a swarm of bees. "If you followed this slave's example you might not be so uncomfortable. I'm sure you must be quite hungry."

Starving, actually, but Tony refused to admit that, or confess to being somewhat lightheaded after several days with no significant nourishment and little restful sleep. Instead, he decided to fall back on the skills he could always rely on in a desperate situation. Sarcasm and antagonism.

"I'd never thought about applying for Extreme Makeover, but your program here is almost as good. Much better than Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig, although Valerie Bertinelli is looking pretty hot these days and I have to admit she had me sold on their plan for a while." He was prepared for the swat, and didn't even wince when Rick hit him again. "So tell me, what does it take to make a guy decide to kidnap and sell other men? I've been trying to figure it out, and I've concluded it must be some kind of power complex. Does it give you a thrill to exert that much control over other human beings?

Rick smiled patiently. "As a matter of fact, it does. I've gone easy on you until now, slave, but today we need to start taking your training seriously. You need to learn how to present yourself to your master."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "That might work if I actually bought into this whole master/slave deal, but since I don't, you're wasting your time."

The strike to his lower back drew a thin line of blood.

"We'll see, boy, we'll see."

A few hours later, Tony had started to wonder if he had grossly underestimated his predicament.

The blonde slave named Cody had spent several hours showing him how to slide to his knees and gracefully crawl across the floor before laying down prostrate and waiting for Steve to allow him to rise up again with his palms facing upward on his thighs.

The problems started when they requested Tony repeat the movements.

When he refused, Steve used a cane to knock his knees out from under him and send him to the ground. Tony lay there, seething, ready to fly toward Steve's ankles and put them on eye level – the gun pointed in his face by a wary guard stopped his retaliation leaving him shaking with fury.

"Get on all fours," Steve demanded, shoving Tony over so he could move into position. DiNozzo reviewed his options, and decided if he got his brains blown out he was ok with that.

"No," Tony replied flatly.

Cody watched his rebellion with saucer sized eyes. Tony gave the scared kid a grin to try and alleviate some of his anxiety, but DiNozzo's smile faded with the harsh kick to his still tender abdomen. Tony let out a whoosh of air and fell flat on his face.

"I said to get on all fours," Steve repeated. Rick entered the room, leaning against a wall with his arms folded, silently observing the proceedings.

Tony gathered his resolve, rubbing his stomach gingerly. "I said no," he repeated. "I'm not a pet."

Steve moved to kick him again, but Rick held up a hand, stepping toward them. "Get the restraints," he said calmly. Steve liked the sound of that idea, his face lighting up at the suggestion. Tony sat up and scooted across the floor on his butt until he hit the wall.

"Don't touch me," he warned, letting his eyes dart between the two men. "I'm not going to just let you truss me up without a fight."

"Fight all you want," Steve said evenly. "You won't win. Besides, I kind of like it when a sub shows some spirit."

Steve had gathered up a hand full of chains and cuffs, and approached Tony cautiously. He dropped them to the floor and looked to Rick, who nodded.

Tony kicked out as they approached, landing a solid blow to Rick's midsection and knocking him backward. He managed to elbow Steve in the jaw, hoping from the snapping sound that he might've broken it. One of the guards joined the melee, grabbing one of Tony's arms and pinning it behind him. Tony continued to lash out, but he couldn't stop the three large men from finally subduing him. He was helpless as they tightened straps around his thighs and calves, connecting short lengths of chains until he was forced into a crawling position and couldn't get up. A leash was attached to the collar on his neck, and he considered screaming in rage.

Rick knelt next to him. "Stop fighting us, boy," he cajoled. "In the end, it won't matter anyway."

The next few hours were a humiliating torment; they pulled him across the floor using the leash until his hands and knees were rubbed raw when he refused to actually crawl. His backside throbbed from repeated lashes from the crop and his sides ached where Steve took every opportunity to kick him. He thought they would eventually get bored with trying to make him surrender, but they didn't; he called on every bit of stubbornness he possessed to continue to defy them.

Exhaustion settled in, and eventually he found his muscles trembling and quivering. Steve's boot connected with his side, and he fell over, unable to lift himself up again. "You will crawl, boy," Steve shouted, inches from his face. "On your hands and knees, now!"

Tony ignored him, shutting his eyes instead.

He could hear a muffled discussion as Rick spoke to his subordinate. Tony was so tired he didn't care what they were talking about, and he didn't try to listen. He opened his eyes when his arms were grabbed and he was dragged across the room.

"We'll try again in the morning," Rick said. "But you will be punished for your insubordination."

It took a few seconds for Tony's numb mind to catch on to what was happening. He was still restrained in the same position, unable to stretch out his legs or arms the way they were cuffed together. "Stop," he managed to mumble when he was pushed through the door of a large cage and the wire front was snapped shut behind him. The confining space didn't even allow room for him to turn around; even the floor was wire and it cut into the skin on his legs and arms as he sought a position to rest his aching muscles.

Steve looked in at him without the slightest hint of compassion. "Guess you're more of a dog than you realized. Enjoy your night."

Rick sighed. "I don't want to do this to you, boy, but you leave me no choice. Tomorrow, be more cooperative and you'll be rewarded instead of punished."

They turned and walked away, shutting off the lights, leaving Tony alone in the darkness. He managed to slump to the bottom of the cage, his arms and legs still bent awkwardly, every limb protesting the confinement.

Fatigue clouded his thoughts and he let it filter through his body, slipping toward a restless sleep. He wouldn't give up; he would continue to fight them every step of the way. Gibbs would get here, and when he did he would know that Tony had never, ever given up.

Or that he'd died trying.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Notes: **As the story gets more intense, I have to admit it was difficult for me to write, so all your kind words of encouragement are very much appreciated. I'm trying to post every day or two, but it all depends on how busy I am (I like to have a little bit of time between reviews before I post a new chapter). _

_I'm wondering if after this chapter you'll get a better idea of where this is going next. If you think you know, give me a guess! As always, looking forward to hearing your thoughts._

Gibbs fidgeted restlessly in the seat of the car. He'd been following Nakamura for over a week, and so far the man had done nothing to indicate he knew the whereabouts of Tony or was even involved in his disappearance. The smarmy Asian spent most of his days in business meetings or going to museums and auction houses to examine antiquities; his nights he spent at a variety of Dominant/submissive clubs. They had traveled across several states and visited a handful of major cities along the way. At least they were far enough away from DC that at this point Gibbs wasn't concerned about anyone recognizing him.

Since merely following Nakamura wasn't going to pay off quickly enough, he was going to have to do something different. It was risky, but Gibbs' gut insisted that Tony needed him sooner rather than later. The risk would be worth it if he found out any information about the slavery ring that he suspected had abducted his agent.

Gibbs slid down in his seat as the Asian left the building, his naked slave and a bodyguard in tow. For once, the federal agent didn't cautiously pull his car into traffic behind them; he knew where they were staying and based on Nakamura's previous behavior the Dom would head back to the hotel and sleep until at least noon the following day. Instead, Gibbs confidently stepped from the vehicle and walked into the club.

The doorman assessed him as he approached, then waved him through without a word. Gibbs knew that when he let all his toppy vibes out, very few people ever had the nerve to question him. He let the loudly thumping music wash into the background and waited while his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Surveying the room, he found the bar and went directly to it, leaning on the mahogany wood with one elbow while glancing at the patrons drinking, talking, laughing, and dancing around him.

"Can I get you anything?" the bartender asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the noise.

Gibbs tilted his head to see the man; he was short, middle aged, with a slight paunch and close cropped hair. The former gunny could smell the marine on the man and a Semper Fi tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt; Gibbs would turn that connection to his advantage.

"Need to work out some aggression, so I could use a sub with some attitude," he replied. "And a bourbon."

The bartender laughed. "We can take care of the sub and the bourbon, but let me start you off with the drink first."

A glass of amber colored liquid appeared in front of him, which Gibbs sipped while surveying the clientele. "So now I have my bourbon, you got any suggestions about my other order?"

The bartender wiped his hands on a towel and nodded. "You looking for hard and rough or soft and sweet?"

Gibbs sat his drink on the counter and let his eyes go cold. "Hard and rough." It was important he make a name for himself as a tough Dom who could handle anything or anyone.

"My name's Mick," the man introduced. "Give me a minute - I think I have a sub you'll enjoy." He moved to the end of the bar and spoke to a thirty-something man wearing a charcoal grey suit who turned to glance at Gibbs giving him an appraising once over. The silver-haired agent took another sip from his drink and watched them dispassionately, unconcerned with their analysis. Grey suit approached him.

"You got cash?" he asked.

Gibbs nodded. He'd cleaned out his savings before leaving DC, prepared to spend every last dime if he had to in order to get back what was his. And whether either one of them was willing to admit it or not, Tony belonged to him.

"Follow me."

It had been several years since Gibbs had played in the scene at all, but some things you never forget how to do. It came back as naturally as waking up in the morning. The whips, the floggers, the clamps, the restraints – he used them all. By the end of the session the tall, muscular submissive they had given to him was clinging to his leg and begging for more.

Gibbs was grateful the guy had jet black hair and a Latino background; he didn't think he could have handled any resemblance to Tony. He placed a firm hand on the boy's thick hair and gave him a quick kiss on top of the head – he appreciated the other man's complete surrender to him even if it had left a hollow feeling that could only be filled by one person. It wasn't this boy's fault he wasn't Tony.

The hollowness, however, was offset by a small thrill that came with exhibiting his dominant side. Taking someone over the edge again was nothing short of exhilarating; he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it and the kind of contentment it gave him. With a gentle hand he helped the sub cover his striped back with a soft robe.

"Rest," he ordered. "You did very well."

The man sighed and curled up on the bed, already drifting to sleep in an endorphin filled haze. Gibbs buttoned his own shirt back up and headed out into the main area of the club.

He met grey suit in the hallway.

"Quite a display," the handler said. "David is difficult to bring down and you did it in under two hours. I'm impressed."

Gibbs shrugged and kept walking. "I'm guessing you were watching."

"Of course – it's my responsibility to keep our subs safe. I don't know you, even if you're money is good."

Gibbs nodded his approval. "We both got what we wanted."

Grey suit followed him back out to the bar where Mick greeted him with another bourbon.

"Why haven't I seen you around here before?" his new companion asked.

"New in town," Gibbs replied without elaboration.

Mick leaned over and studied him. "You're a marine, right?"

Gibbs smiled slightly. "Gunnery Sergeant. You?"

Mick gave his own grin in return. "Lance Corporal. Got wounded in Desert Storm and honorably discharged."

"I did my time and retired a few years back. Been working in clubs ever since, looking for a place to settle down. Leroy Jackson," he announced.

"Duncan Spencer," grey suit countered. "I own this club. You still looking for work?"

"Maybe," Gibbs answered. "I haven't decided yet. Why? You got an opening?"

Duncan made a face. "I could use a new handler; I had to fire the last one when he kept skimming money off the top. Put us in a bit of a tight spot."

Gibbs finished his drink. "I could fill in for you a few days. Nothing permanent."

Duncan put his hand out to shake and Gibbs took it. "Sounds like a deal to me."

The NCIS agent didn't say anything else. He wasn't sure if this was what he should do or not, but being on the inside of a club that Nakamura frequented might give him a better angle on the slave trade. Duncan struck him as shady; maybe the bar owner had something worked out with the guys who took Tony. He'd stay a little while, see if he could pick up on anything, and if nothing panned out he'd hop back on Nakamura's cross-country jaunt.

Right now time was running short and anything was worth a shot.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick stood at the edge of the cell and watched his newest slave toss and turn, unable to rest even when asleep. When they had taken him out of the cage the week before, he had been very near collapse from being unable to shift position for so long. His knee had immediately buckled, unable to support his weight after they removed the restraints and allowed him to stand.

Steve had laughed at his inability to remain upright. "You seem to like the floor after all, princess. Better get used to that position, it's at just the right height after all." The trainer had pushed his crotch into Tony's face, forcing the nearly incapacitated man to breathe in the leathery scent of his trousers.

Rick had half expected DiNozzo to throw up, but the young man continued to display a streak of stubbornness that rivaled any he'd ever encountered. Instead he had gritted his teeth and breathed deeply through his nose, refusing to budge an inch until eventually Steve relented and backed away.

"Take him to the dining hall," Rick directed the guards. They had followed the same procedures as every other day throughout the past week, giving him the opportunity to show his supplication and Tony refusing. As a result, the plain bread and few sips of water he'd been allowed were barely enough to keep a rat alive. Instead of bending to their demands, he sat swaying in his bonds, dark smudges circling his eyes, and endured.

It had become a battle of wills, and Rick wasn't quite sure who was going to win.

The boy was intent to refuse anything and everything they required, regardless of the consequences. His welfare didn't seem to matter in the slightest, even if it resulted in severe punishment or even death. They had beaten him daily, tied him up and left him in various stress positions, denied him any human contact outside of the trainers, and nothing broke him. Each and every time DiNozzo managed to reapply that goofy grin, make a smartass comment and find his resolve again.

The federal agent was a significant investment, with a potentially huge payoff. More intense measures were going to have to be taken if they were to receive the results they desired. It was a fine line, and he'd gone too hard on subs before until he was left with a slave so shattered they provided no enjoyment, and that wasn't what his clients wanted. He needed to leave the fiery soul intact. So far they had avoided overly sexual tactics, but that might be what was necessary to get this particular slave into the correct frame of mind.

One thing was certain, even now, exhausted, tired, hungry, and sore, DiNozzo was still a beautiful man. His back was broad and muscled, the symmetrical lats tapering down into a small waist before widening back out into a firm, round ass, finishing up with long, lean legs. He had just enough hair covering his skin to remind someone he was a man, and those flashing green eyes framed by incredibly dark lashes could take your breath away. Oh, this one was definitely going to earn him a fortune if they could just get him under control.

Rick might even have to sample the goods himself before this fine boy was sold off.

The trainer leaned forward when he heard DiNozzo mumble something. It sounded like _Where are you? Please hurry. _Rick mulled over the words. Was that Tony's secret? Did he believe that someone was going to rescue him? It would explain why he was holding out, refusing to give in.

That could be used as leverage. During the upcoming session they would increase the intensity, push him farther both physically and psychologically. They only had around a month until the next auction, and he needed DiNozzo to be ready.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee lifted the tea cup to his lips and sipped. "This is really good, Ducky. Is it a special blend?"

The ME smiled brightly, clearly pleased by the question. "Actually, it is. I purchased it at a small shop in Georgetown that sells only tea – they carry hundreds of varieties. You might not be aware, Timothy, but tea has a rich and interesting history. Most people have heard that the first tea was produced in China and imported across the desert in caravans thanks to the intrepid explorer Marco Polo. And of course there was the infamous party in Boston instigated by the Colonist's addiction to the substance. This particular brand of tea has a unique blend of herbs including chamomile and peppermint that is tremendously soothing and helps to calm a troubled mind. I thought it was quite apropos considering the current situation with our beleaguered colleagues."

Ziva's lips curled indulgently as she lightly blew ripples across the surface of her warm beverage. "It is a very good choice, Doctor Mallard." She placed her own teacup back on the saucer with barely a tinkle of the china. "I think we have all been very anxious over the last few days." Even if they were sharing tea and cookies off of a metal tray in autopsy, it was nice to have everyone together for support instead of off worrying on their own.

Abby sighed and downed her tea in one gulp. She stared back at her friends with indignation. "What? I've given up Caf-Pow until Gibbs and Tony come back, so I'm low on caffeine." She held her cup out and waited for Ducky to fill it again, which the doctor did with a wry shake of his head. "Besides, I'm totally stressed out about not knowing what's happening and maybe this will help me relax a little. You know," she picked up a cookie and took a bite, crumbs falling on her black shirt, "there's always a chance if Gibbs doesn't find Tony he won't come back at all. We might never hear from either of them again." She stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth and chewed slowly, her eyes searching for someone to contradict her statement.

"Abigail," Ducky chastised, "Gibbs would never leave without ever getting in touch with us….." His voice trailed off and he busied himself pouring a cup of tea for Palmer, the lead agent's jaunt to Mexico clearly on his and everyone else's minds. "I suppose you're right, it is a possibility," he conceded with regret.

The Goth scientist drank her second cup of tea and poured another. "I don't think Gibbs could stand losing Tony like this, not with the way he feels about him and all, I mean he almost never got over Shannon and Kelly and I'm pretty sure having to accept Tony being gone forever would be completely devastating." She paced back and forth while she talked, tea cup in one hand and cookie in the other.

McGee frowned from his spot on a rolling stool in the corner, not quite following her train of thought but that wasn't so unusual when talking to the scientist. "What do you mean 'the way he feels about Tony?'"

Abby stared at him like he was the dumbest person she'd ever met. "Come on, McGee, you know what I mean! The tension between them is so thick it's practically a palpable entity. I think they both ignored it for as long as they could, but after Tony was gone as Agent Afloat it started driving them both crazy. They couldn't be in the same room together without one of them acting schizophrenic…either Tony was mad or Gibbs was mad or they both were mad, and Gibbs was grumpy and Tony was out of control and they were going to have to deal with it. But now Tony's gone and they can't. It's one thing when you think you've got all the time in the world with someone, but imagine how it would feel to know you wasted all those seconds, minutes, hours, days, and now you can't get them back again! Poor Gibbs must be so upset with himself."

"Abby," Ziva stated calmly standing up with her eyes narrowed in concentration; she carefully placed her hands on the Goth's shoulders. "Are you suggesting that Gibbs has…._feelings_ for Tony?"

'Well, duh, I thought you guys were investigators. Don't act like you didn't notice."

"That is ridiculous," Ziva spouted immediately, pacing toward McGee. "Yes, of course, Gibbs cares for Tony as a friend, but anything else would be out of the question!"

Dr. Mallard pursed his lips together. "Abigail might actually have a point. I have noticed quite a bit of…unresolved energy between the two of them lately, and had wondered myself if it could be something more than just normal irritation. Gibbs has been trying to avoid Tony as much as possible, and poor Anthony has been doing anything to attract Jethro's attention, even if it had to be garnered in a negative context."

"That really doesn't prove anything," McGee countered, still unwilling to believe the theory. "I agree with Ziva; Gibbs sees Tony as a friend, maybe even a son, but that's all. Tony would drive Gibbs nuts with all his movie references, non-stop talking, and constant activity. I can't see an attraction at all."

Abby whirled around to face Jimmy Palmer, who was standing quietly against the wall. "You!" she pointed her cookie at him like a weapon. "What do you think Palmer? Do Gibbs and Tony have some secret sexual connection going on that the rest of the team has blatantly ignored?"

The autopsy assistant shifted uncomfortably while the others scrutinized him, waiting for a response. "I guess I've noticed a few things," he finally answered.

"Like what?' Ziva asked, her arms folded across her chest, face tightly pinched with outright skepticism.

Palmer warmed to the subject. "Like Tony always walks behind Gibbs and when he thinks no one's looking he….you know….checks out the boss' butt. And sometimes when Tony's across a room he'll watch Gibbs talking with this really dreamy look on his face. And Gibbs," Palmer paused, "Gibbs' hand is always twitching when he's around Tony, like he wants to touch him. I think that's why he head slaps him so much. Of course, Gibbs hadn't been doing that lately, but he still brushes up against Tony on the way out of a room, or leans in close when Tony's working on his computer. So yeah, I can definitely see it. Actually, I think they'd be kind of cute together."

Ziva snorted and McGee made a disgusted face.

"Exactly!" Abby proclaimed, before letting her face drop and sitting down heavily on a stool. "Which is why Gibbs won't stop until he finds Tony, one way or the other. He'd never give up, and if he doesn't he'll blame himself for everything." She scanned their faces. "We have to help them, even if they are miles away and can't contact us! There has to be something we can do!"

"There isn't much to go on," McGee told her softly, unwilling to let his friend down. He might not be able to fathom a potential relationship between Gibbs and DiNozzo, but they were his team regardless. "I'll continue tracing Nakamura. Maybe something will come up."

Ziva bit her bottom lip, letting her sympathy for Abby show. She gave the other woman a quick hug. "I will see if my connections in other agencies have heard anything useful."

Ducky smiled sadly, wondering for not the first time just how this incredible group of people had been fortunate enough to find one another. "I still have the remains of our departed marine. I'll review the autopsy again and see if I missed anything."

"I've got that little bit of fluff off the marine that I've been analyzing. Maybe I can find some more tests to run," Abby provided bravely. "Thanks, guys."

"We won't give up, either, Abby." McGee said, rubbing her shoulders. "I'm not convinced you're opinion about Gibbs and Tony….liking each other…. is right, but it doesn't matter, really. We want them back all the same."

"McGee is correct," Ziva agreed. "If Gibbs has taught us anything it is to never leave a man behind. We will find Tony and make sure that Gibbs does not have an excuse to run away again."

They finished their tea in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about how to find Tony, and in the end find Gibbs, too.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony took a deep breath through his nose and released it slowly. _In and out. _He repeated the mantra to himself, the one holdover from the plague experience that had actually proven useful. Working to control his labored breathing was almost second nature after days upon days of nearly drowning in his own fluids while lying in a bed in Bethesda.

He would trade almost anything for that warm bed right now. His current situation was so degrading, so humiliating that it was almost too foreign for his body and mind to recognize. He supposed that's what they wanted, for him to feel like less than a person, to accept his status as a thing to be ordered around and treated like a possession without any kind of free will at all.

His eyes snapped open a few seconds before the whip stung his back, his sensitive ears having picked up on the whistling of the braided leather through empty air. The sharp sting was akin to being doused with ice cold water, and it took a few seconds for his nerve endings to register the pain that eventually rushed through his overloaded system. He wanted to moan with every lash, but he steadfastly refused to make the smallest whimper, clinging to whatever vestige of dignity he could grab onto. They wouldn't let him sleep, wouldn't let him drift away for even a moment of rest. His punishment for trying to mentally escape was the ever present bite of the whip.

Involuntarily his body tensed and then shook, trying to absorb the force of the blow and allow the pain to spread out from where it radiated on his flesh into the rest of his being. It was difficult, since his arms were stretched wide and taut above him, attached to a silver bar. Another bar held his legs firmly apart, his bare feet planted on the dirty wooden planks of the scaffold. He now had an up close and personal view of the platform in the center of the compound. People in the camp came and went, some ignoring him, others openly ogling his naked form. Trainers and guards didn't hesitate to walk straight up and touch him in any way they pleased.

He had cursed the first one to pinch his nipples, and Steve had gleefully added a large round ball gag to his accoutrements. From that point on he had to accept his degradation in silence, unable to do more than twist his head away when total strangers approached to fondle and play with any part of him they wished to explore.

Some had simply run their hands through his hair; others had stroked his cock and balls or squeezed his ass. One spent a great deal of time licking up and down his inner thighs. Another had let rough, stubby fingers circle dangerously around his hole, causing Tony to flinch and tighten reflexively. The man had licked his index finger and pushed it partially inside him, and Tony had made an uncontrollable sound of desperation, trying to wiggle and buck away despite how pathetic it might have looked.

When Rick told the man to stop, Tony's chest had been heaving and he'd broken out into a cold, clammy sweat. _In and out, _Tony repeated. _In and out. Just breathe. _All of the air was going through his nose now, but he had to control his racing heart or he might possibly pass out or hyperventilate. He tried to recall movie plots as a distraction, tried to maintain a grip on his mind….memories of Zeke assailed him, the way he'd been touched without permission, without any control over his own body. He blinked furiously, gasped, rolled his eyes up toward the sky. He wouldn't lose it, wouldn't let them win. _In and out. In and out. _He started to calm down, but somehow they could always tell when he lost focus, and the whip returned to painfully remind him of his reality. It sliced his skin. There was no way escape.

He had no idea how long this had gone on. Dozens of people had placed their hands on him, and he doubted if one inch of his body had gone unmolested. He was actually grateful for the gag since that at least protected him from having anything unwanted in his mouth.

After a while his legs grew weak and tired and he slumped downward, putting more and more of his weight on his arms, his joints aching under the strain. His back and legs had been whipped so many times he could no longer feel the new strikes when they landed. His head lolled forward and his vision grew blurry until he was unable to distinguish the features of the people around him.

Rick fisted a hand in his hair and lifted his head. Steve reached in and unbuckled the gag. "Have you had enough?"

The question was a simple one. Tony tried to rouse himself sufficiently to laugh hoarsely, his voice rough from hours of disuse and lack of water. "Yeah, I think I have."

He didn't even try to open his eyes.

Rick didn't let go of his hair. "Acknowledge me as your master and I'll let you down. We'll give you something to eat and drink, allow you to sleep."

The words were more of a brutal blow than the whip. Even now, he couldn't say that, he couldn't give over control to these bastards and utter those words. _Master._ He had no master. They could physically force him to do what they wanted, but he would never willingly agree to it. They could try to make him, but he'd die first.

"Can't," he replied. There was no need to elaborate on the obvious.

"Do you want to stay like this all night?" Rick asked, waving a hand at Tony's predicament. "We can give you a short break and then go right back at it again. We can make this last for days if you force us to. But eventually I will win."

Tony managed to lift his head higher. _Resistance is futile._ He chuckled to himself and Rick looked at him like he was a little bit crazy. He wasn't the first person to come to that conclusion.

"No…..not my master."

Rick tilted his head. "You're waiting on someone, aren't you? The man you think is coming to rescue you. That's why you're being so stubborn. I can assure you, boy, no one is coming. We are so far off the beaten trail and into the wilderness, you will never be found. I hate to crush your dream, but you might as well give up and realize this is your life now."

"Can't," Tony repeated. _He hasn't met Gibbs._

"That's too bad," Rick acknowledged, distracted when Josh came to join them. He let go of Tony's hair and DiNozzo's chin bounced off his chest.

"You have a phone call; it's Nakamura," Josh informed him, staring cautiously at Tony.

Rick pursed his lips before turning to Steve. "Take him down for thirty minutes then put him up again. Tell the other trainers that our obstinate boy is ready for round two. Use the gag and a blindfold; whip him every half hour or whenever you think he needs it; make sure it hurts but don't leave too many marks. Continue the cycle until he changes his mind."

Tony managed to raise his head once more to stare at Rick, struggling to find a way to deal with what he was hearing. It was so surreal he had to remind himself this wasn't some fucked up nightmare his brain had conjured up after a long night of drinking. All those hands on him – he swallowed heavily, wishing he could have some water but unwilling to pay the price for it. He was learning very quickly that everything here came with a price tag attached. He licked his dry, cracked lips.

Rick held his hand out to Josh, who handed him a bottle of water.

"You look thirsty, would you like a drink?"

Rick unscrewed the cap off the bottle and tilted his head back, pulling from the opening. Tony watched his Adam's apple bob up and down, captivated by the motion.

Without warning, Rick paced over to him, leaned down, and kissed him hard on the lips, spitting water into his mouth at the same time. Tony sputtered, his body trying to swallow the liquid while his mind screamed to spit it back out. He ended up coughing raggedly, drops of liquid dripping down his chin.

The slave master took another drink and swallowed. "Behave and I will take very good care of you. You will want for nothing. Your suffering is unnecessary."

Tony grunted low in his throat, anger flooding his veins with fiery hot intensity. He trembled with the onslaught of emotion. "The first chance I get I'm going to kill you."

The tall man laughed without amusement. "Then I'll make sure not to give you the chance. Accept your fate, boy. It will make everything else so much easier."

As Rick walked away, Tony tried to straighten up tall again despite the agonizing burning in his arms and legs. He wouldn't show weakness. Gibbs would never give up and neither would he even if they left him strung up here day and night. _If only they wouldn't touch me. _It was a faint afterthought, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

The rest they gave him went by too quickly; he spent the thirty minutes lying on the hard wooden platform feeling like ants were crawling up and down his body as the circulation tingled through his limbs. He considered if there was anything he could do to get away, but the guns trained on him made any thought of escape tantamount to suicide. When Steve and Josh spread his arms and legs and attached his cuffs to the posts again, he had to struggle not to scream or cry with frustration and, he hated to admit it, fear. By the time the groping started, he'd blanked out his mind completely, pretending he was being stroked by every lover he'd ever known, and when it got too much, he let his mind imagine Gibbs' calloused hands on his skin, holding onto the fantasy like a charm against the evil surrounding him.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. His Asian client was a pain in the ass, but he was a big time spender so it paid to keep him happy.

Nakamura had asked about DiNozzo, wanting to know if the new slave would be ready by the next auction. Rick hadn't outright lied, but he had hedged the truth somewhat. In all honesty, the federal agent was turning out to be one of the most uncooperative slaves he'd ever met. He was beginning to wonder if the potential payoff was worth all the effort.

Walking to the window he stared out to the middle of the compound where DiNozzo stood, once more bound hand and foot. He had intentionally requested Steve use a whip that wouldn't cause too much damage, since the broad expanse of tawny back was one of the slave's most appealing features. His eyes traced over the round ass and firm legs – the agent was far too pretty to give up on. Even if Nakamura didn't buy him, someone else would, all they had to do was find the right trigger to send him down into subservience. He almost hated to do it, but they were going to have to completely break the young man to build him back into what they wanted.

He watched fine tremors snake up and down Tony's body, the effect of spending so many hours in one position. Through it all the man had never once begged for mercy, never cried, never screamed. He endured it all with a stoic attitude that his frat boy looks and clownish personality never hinted he possessed. Rick couldn't afford to admire his determination, since ultimately it cut into his bottom line.

With a sigh he headed back outside; Tony was now blindfolded and the agent whipped his head to the side at the approach, apparently able to either hear or smell him getting nearer. Rick silently motioned Steve aside.

"I'm going to have to meet with Nakamura tomorrow – seems he's found another cop who's caught his interest. After the cluster fucks you've created the last few weeks, I decided to take this meeting myself; we can't afford to piss Nakamura off. Keep working this one over, hard." He tossed his head at Tony. "Keep him restrained all the time; I get the feeling he's ready to snap and if he gets an opportunity I don't think he'd hesitate to take out any one of us."

"How long will you be gone?"

Rick considered the question. "A couple of days." He watched Tony attempt to stand on wobbly legs. "Don't screw this up; I think he might be close to giving in."

Steve folded his arms. "I'll take care of it – don't worry about anything. He won't be so tough after a few more days of this. Even the strongest SOB caves eventually."

The older man raised his eyebrows. "Just don't kill him, Steve. He's worth a small fortune and I don't want you to have to recoup any loss of profit out of your own pocket."

Rick knew the veiled threat was enough to make Steve more than a little nervous; his partner loved money almost as much as he loved torturing a defiant slave. Rick patted Steve on the arm and left to pack, smiling to himself when he heard the thud of the whip striking flesh again.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs leaned against the bar, tapping his fingers on a glass of water, wishing he could drink something stronger. The blaring sound system was giving him a headache, and he was bone weary tired. He couldn't seem to rest even though he was exhausted and the sleepless nights were getting to him.

He wondered if he was on a wild goose chase, and these people had nothing to do with Tony's disappearance. There was a chance he was looking in the wrong direction, and he was wasting precious time.

His gut told him otherwise.

Briefly he pondered how Tony might be holding out against what was being done to him now. DiNozzo was a strange mixture of hard and soft; he could be as solid as iron one minute, as supple as silk the next. He had no doubt his senior field agent could withstand torture, being beaten or hurt, but the rest of it – the sexual aspect of it – he didn't know how Tony would handle that.

This would be physical contact beyond Tony's control, which would only add to the strain considering how the younger man was conflicted by issues of dominance. Tony didn't mind taking orders if he chose to do so, however he had extreme problems with commands – and commanders – he didn't respect. There was no way Tony would bend to their will without being forced to do so. And they would punish him for it. The image of Tony at the mercy of those bastards – he gripped his glass so hard his knuckles turned white. Tony was no pansy, but there was no way he deserved to be treated with any kind of brutality.

Gibbs had been enough of a bastard to the man on his own – he just hoped he'd have the opportunity to make it up to his second-in-command. Guilt was an emotion he was used to, but not one that he enjoyed.

A young man, mid-twenties with sandy brown hair and an athletic build came up to the bar and stood next to him. The guy checked him out and smiled. "Nice," he commented, approving of Gibbs' dark jeans, button down shirt, and mid-length leather jacket that clung tightly to his shoulders and nipped in slightly at the waist. He'd picked up a thing or two about fashion from Tony along the way. "You looking for someone tonight?"

Gibbs gave his half-smile to the boy young enough to be his grandson. "I'm working tonight. If a Dom comes in looking for a sub, I'll let you know."

"Too bad," the kid replied with a pout. "I have a daddy thing you could help me with."

Gibbs laughed. "Maybe you should talk that over with your father instead of picking up older men in a bar."

"I don't think so," the kid said firmly. His eyes darted to the door. "Shit. It's that crazy Asian fuck. He won't leave me the hell alone; keeps buying me drinks and telling me how hot I am." The kid winked, and reminded Gibbs of Tony. "Of course, he's right about that. Excuse me while I go hide from my not-so-secret admirer." He made a dash for the dance floor without looking back.

Turning away from the main entrance, Gibbs headed toward the back of the club to check out the private rooms. Running into Nakamura wouldn't help his cause, but he did want to keep an eye on his suspect. Settling into the shadows, Gibbs leaned against a wall and observed his only potential connection to DiNozzo.

Another man took a seat across from the collector; Gibbs tried to get a read on the new player. He was an older man around his age, mid-fifties, with long steel grey hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. He had a well-trimmed goatee and intense dark eyes. His clothes were casual, yet tailored and fit perfectly – dark slacks, a v-neck sweater, expensive shoes, and more jewelry than any man should ever wear. A gold earring dangled from one ear, several large diamond rings accented his fingers, and a thick gold bracelet circled his wrist. A heavy gold chain hung around his neck. Gibbs wasn't sure what kind of look the man was going for, but he had an air of sophistication mixed with an undercurrent of danger. Gibbs didn't like him immediately.

Nakamura spoke to him animatedly, eventually pointing out to the dance floor where Gibbs noticed the young boy from earlier shimmying and swaying to the beat. Nakamura smiled ferally and spoke quickly to his companion, punctuating his words with odd bursts of laughter. The discussion turned more serious, and Gibbs leaned forward, trying to read their lips without giving away his position.

The only thing that helped him to not react violently was his extensive sniper training; Gibbs clearly read the words "federal agent" and "pretty green eyes" on the Asian's lips. He nearly burst across the room and grabbed Nakamura by the throat. He forced himself to remain still and quiet, watching and observing even after the revelation. The ponytailed man smiled and made a small gesture with his hand. He had his back to Gibbs, so the agent didn't get a chance to read his response, but based on the expression on Nakamura's face it had pleased him. He smiled broadly and Gibbs could make out the words $250,000 _at least. _They were going to sell Tony, he knew it.

What should he do now? Call Fornell? Try to arrest them on his own? What if they wouldn't tell him where Tony was being held? Chances were good they had high-priced lawyers on retainer who would have them out of jail in a heartbeat, and he would be no closer to finding Tony than he was right now. They might even kill DiNozzo to protect themselves from prosecution.

He decided to wait, see if he could follow Ponytail to where Tony was being held and then play it by ear from there. It was damned hard to be this close to answers, and not just tear them both apart to find out what he wanted to know. But he had to hold his temper, had to stay calm for Tony. Running off half-cocked would only make the situation worse.

Dom vibes exuded from the grey eyed man, and Gibbs guessed he was a trainer. The man carried himself like someone rarely ever questioned, who expected complete and total obedience from everyone around him. Even now, he held himself apart from his client, his demeanor cool and unruffled in the face of Nakamura's unsettled hyperactivity. This Dom was the key to finding Tony; Gibbs just had to hold out a while longer to find out what he needed.

Suddenly the men shook hands and stood up. Nakamura put some money on the table and left. Ponytail sat back down to finish his drink and silently observe the boy on the dance floor.

It was time for Gibbs to make his move.

He emerged from the darkened area and back into the brighter lighting of the main club, taking a seat on a stool near the bar. Duncan came over, reaching for a bowl of peanuts and crunching them. "So how are we doing tonight?"

"Pretty good," Gibbs answered honestly. "Nearly all the private rooms are taken and most of the subs you had on call are hooked up with a Dom. That cute little Sally actually snagged two." It was all legal as long as the club had a license for it – another cultural shift brought about by the Sawyer movement. The subs were there consensually and were well paid for their time and services, the Doms got what they needed without having to look for it on the streets; he supposed it was better than having it all go on underground like before. Everyone got tested to prevent the spread of disease, the toys were cleaned and sanitized, hell, he figured pretty soon Disney World would have a sex club.

"So far we haven't had any trouble tonight, which is the way I like it," Duncan commented, tossing another peanut in his mouth. "Mix alcohol and sex, and you never know when someone's going to snap."

Gibbs grunted his agreement. "Who's that guy over there?" he asked, indicating Ponytail. "Is he a regular? Came in like he owns the place."

Duncan smiled. "He shows up every now and then. He's an old friend of mine – I'll introduce you. Two uber-tops like you; I bet you guys have a lot in common."

He walked over to the table and came back with Ponytail, who greeted them with a stern frown. "Leroy Jackson this is Rick Townsend. Leroy's taking care of the subs for me until I find someone permanent."

The two men exchanged handshakes and appraising glances before Duncan continued. "You remember, David, don't you Rick? He's that big beautiful sub who won't submit to anybody – Leroy here had him taken down and nibbling from his hand in a couple of hours. I've never seen anything like it."  
>Rick raised an eyebrow. "I've worked with David a time or two; he's always been difficult."<p>

Gibbs feigned indifference. "I like a challenge."

Rick chuckled to himself.

"Something funny?" Gibbs asked, leaning back in his chair.

Rick just shook his head, his ponytail moving from side to side. "Nah, it's nothing."

Duncan interjected. "You can tell him, Rick, Leroy's cool. I did a background check on him – he's not a cop or anything. I think he might find your little enterprise….interesting."

Gibbs waited, barely breathing.

Rick put a peanut in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully; after a long pause he seemed to decide it was ok to proceed. "I spend a lot of time working with subs who aren't quite inclined to submit. I help them learn to serve their masters completely and willingly without question. Even if they think they don't want to."

"Do these subs have any say so in the matter?" Gibbs questioned. His cool demeanor hid his surging heartbeat.

Townsend smiled. "Not really. I enjoy it, and there's a profit in it, so….." He let the statement trail off. "You got any moral issues with that?"

Now it was Gibbs' turn to smile. "Nope. Like I said, I like a challenge."

"Well I've got one right now I'd like you to meet. I think the damn bastard might let me kill him before he gives it up."

The words cut through Gibbs like a sharpened blade. It was Tony, he knew it in his soul. No one evoked a reaction like that except his insufferable agent. He fought not to outwardly react.

The young kid bopped over to the bar, sweaty and out of breath from dancing, interrupting them. "Hey, Dad," he said, eyeing Gibbs. "You changed your mind yet?"

"I'll let you know," Gibbs answered. The boy gave an exaggerated frown, got his drink and danced away.

Rick watched him intently. "That's my next acquisition. I've got a client who likes to collect pretty boys who work in law enforcement." He shrugged. "We've all got our kinks."

_Nakamura. _

Gibbs had landed right in the viper pit.

A Dom approached, wanting to make some arrangements to hook up with a sub. Reluctantly, Gibbs got up and took the man aside to deal with him. He wanted to negotiate price, but Gibbs was in no mood to cut deals and refused to lower the rate. Out of the corner of his eye he continued to observe Rick and Duncan. Somehow he needed to get on the inside of Rick's operation.

When the Dom was taken care of, he went back to his spot at the bar; Rick stood and joined him. The Dom walked by on his way to the private rooms and muttered "bastard" under his breath as he passed by Gibbs. Rick grinned. "I like the way you handle yourself. You got any references? Not that I don't trust Duncan's judgment, but I'd like a little more to go on before I offer you a job."

"Who said I wanted a job? I didn't even want this one." Gibbs wasn't about to tip his hand.

"I'm pretty good at reading people, and I can tell you're a Dom with some talents I can use. If everything checks out, I might need some help tomorrow picking this guy up – think you could lend me a hand?"

It was the opening he needed, but he didn't want to seem too eager. "What's in it for me?"

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while."

Gibbs didn't answer immediately, wanting to appear that he was considering the offer. He grabbed a handful of peanuts, chewed and swallowed. "Alright, I'll give it a shot. But I expect a cut of the profit once I show you what I can do. Otherwise it's not worth it to me." He gave the name and number of his friend to call; Rick nodded approval.

"I've heard of him, he runs some high end establishments." Rick programmed the information into his phone. "I'll give you more details tomorrow after I have time to make some calls. I'll tell Duncan you're coming with me; he owes me a few favors so I'm sure he won't mind."

Gibbs tilted his head. "I'll be here. Gotta couple of ex-wives to support; the extra money will get them off my back for a while."  
>Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "If you're as good as you seem, this could be a very lucrative association for you." He downed his drink and nodded at Duncan who was talking to a Dom at the other end of the bar. "Bring a bag," he said to Gibbs, "you won't be coming back here for a while."<p>

When he was gone Gibbs sat silently on his barstool collecting his thoughts and letting his rattled nerves settle down. He never expected to get offered a trip into the belly of the beast; he considered calling Abby to tell her what was happening, but discarded the idea quickly. He couldn't chance anything going wrong, and if that meant he had to go after Tony alone, he would. It wasn't like doing things solo was anything new for him.

Once he found DiNozzo he'd figure out what to do next. Just getting into their facility was the critical first step. He doubted Tony would be all that surprised to see him, more than likely he'd ask what took Gibbs so long to get there.

A few more days, that's all he needed to hold out, a few more days.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony struggled to stay awake; his eyes kept closing involuntarily. They'd removed the blindfold and stopped whipping him, no doubt afraid he was going to be seriously injured. His arms burned like they were on fire and his back had turned into one blazing sheet of agony. He no longer cared that he was naked and exposed; all he wanted was for the pain to stop. He didn't think he could stand it anymore.

Steve's face swam into his vision. "All you have to do is ask to be released, boy. Just say the words and you can rest."

An internal battle raged within him. He was so fucking tired – every muscle in his body protested the strain being placed on it. Was holding out worth it? He could do what they wanted and no longer suffer, was that really so bad? What was he proving by allowing them to hurt him like this?

Steve touched his face gently, the fingers on his skin so different than the rough touches he'd endured all day. "Such a pretty boy, so strong and brave. Let me help you."

Tony stared into Steve's chocolate brown eyes and swallowed the lump in his parched throat. He hated himself for it, but he knew what he had to do. It was what Gibbs would want, and really, Tony didn't think he had much of a choice.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Notes: **Sorry this took so long to post, but I've been insanely busy. Plus, I was reworking some of the chapter; I'm not sure I'm happy with the last few pages, but you can let me know if it worked. I'd keep tweaking it if I had more time!_

_Thanks, thanks, thanks for all the reviews! They are so encouraging and keep me inspired to work on the story. I really feel like you are all a part of the writing process for me. _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter and I look forward to your thoughts!_

Tony took a shuddering breath and tilted his chin up insolently. Gibbs wouldn't give up, he knew it. The silver haired bastard would fight them tooth and nail, and so would Tony. He calmed his stuttering heartbeat and choked back the fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

"No…" he coughed and caught his breath. "No…..never." It certainly wasn't eloquent, but it was enough to make his point.

Steve cursed in frustration and drew his fist back; Tony turned his face away to try and avoid the blow. Instead of the punch across his cheek he felt a strike to his exposed midriff – it pushed what little air he had out of his body and left him gasping. Through the haze Tony could see Steve winding up to lash out again, but something stopped him. Josh had stepped in and grabbed his arm.

"If you kill him Rick is going to have your hide," the younger man explained reasonably. "Calm down and think this over."

Steve was shaking, his face purple with rage and frustration. He held his arm stiffly and stared at Josh, indecision marking his features. Finally his heaving chest slowed down and he seemed to regain a modicum of control.

He ran a trembling hand across his cropped hair.

"You're right. You're right." He turned away from Tony as if unable to bear the sight of him anymore. "Give him some water but don't let him down." Steve glanced at Tony over his shoulder, the level of hate in his eyes a bit frightening to the NCIS agent. "If he wants to push the limits, then fine, we'll see how long he lasts."

Steve stomped off the podium and across the yard. DiNozzo sagged in relief at avoiding what would probably have been a severe beating.

His attention was drawn to Josh who approached him with a damp towel; the young man pressed the cloth between Tony's chapped lips. The moisture evaporated quickly against the dry, flaking skin; DiNozzo thought he'd never experienced anything so wonderful in his life. He practically sucked at the fabric trying to get every drop into his arid mouth.

Josh sighed and took the towel away, wetting it again and giving him some more. Tony tried to be skeptical of his captors' motives, but he was too worn out and dehydrated to think about it that much, eternally grateful for whatever relief he could get without selling out.

"I don't know why you're putting yourself through this," the young blonde said softly. "Eventually you'll give up; there's only so much your body and mind can take. Then they'll get what they want anyway."

Tony frowned when the wet cloth was removed again. "Please….." he said quietly, hoping no one else could hear his begging. "Just….just a little more. Please."

Josh glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then tilted the cup up so Tony could take a few sips. "Is that better?" the young man asked, genuine concern in his voice. No one had cared what happened to him in so long, the sound surprised Tony.

"Why….why are you helping me?" Even after the water, his head felt like a bowling ball attached to his neck that was nearly impossible to hold up.

Josh blinked and flushed with embarrassment. "Rick is my uncle. I thought this sounded cool when he first told me about it; he said I could practice being a Dom and make some money for college." Josh snorted. "This place is nothing like what I thought it would be. It makes me sick. Being a Dom is one thing, but I don't get off on treating people like animals."

Tony was surprised; Josh had never once acted any different than the rest of them. He tried to ignore his skepticism and take the words at face value; maybe the kid was telling the truth – it wasn't like he didn't have his own closet full of crazy relatives. "Then why are you still here?" he croaked, his voice tattered and torn.

The young man's eyes grew big. "Have you seen Rick? He's one insane dude. If he even suspected I didn't support this racket 100% he'd fucking kill me, family or not." He shook his head. "No, I have to stay until the end of the summer so I can use the excuse of going back to school. It's the only way I can get out of here alive."

Tony's thick tongue darted out in an attempt to moisten his lips. This kid was just another hapless victim of these crazy psychopaths. "Thanks," he murmered. "You don't have to try and help me anymore. I don't want you to get hurt."

Josh let his shoulders droop. "I wish I could do more. You're a nice guy, Tony. Just do what they want, ok? You aren't proving anything by disobeying them. Besides, Steve's a few cards short of a full deck himself. I don't know what else he might do to you if you keep defying him. He sees it as some kind of insult to his manhood."

_I don't know what he's going to do either,_ Tony thought anxiously. There was a wild look in Steve's eyes that didn't bode well for his future.

"Hey, he's coming back," Josh whispered. "Think about what I said, Tony. Do whatever they want; I don't want to watch you die."

Tony almost wished he could give in that easily. But he knew for him that would be worse than dying. Right or wrong, he would never, ever submit one ounce of himself to these men.

He just had to hold on and pray the team found him before it was too late.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs arrived at the bar early, intending to warn the baby-faced cop to make himself scarce for the next few weeks; he was desperate to find Tony, but his conscience wouldn't allow him to be an accomplice to kidnapping. He figured if it came down to it, he'd have to help the kid get away even if it meant losing his best chance at finding DiNozzo. His senior field agent had spent his entire adult life protecting others, and he was certain Tony wouldn't want him to sacrifice someone else for his freedom.

It didn't make the choice any easier.

When the boy failed to show up, Gibbs was relieved. He hoped the young cop had been called away for work and was somewhere Rick couldn't find him. He toyed with the idea of calling McGee to get the kid's phone number and address, but Rick chose that moment to stride in and greet him. The slave trader's relaxed attitude indicated his evening had been far from disappointing.

Duncan shook Rick's hand. "It's just like you to steal away the only good employee I've managed to hire in months."

"His references are impeccable. If Leroy is as good as everyone says I'll send you a finder's fee."

The club owner laughed. "I'll be waiting on my cut." He patted Gibbs on the back. "I hope you enjoy the camp, Leroy. I've only been there once, but it was a trip I'll never forget."

Gibbs grunted in reply, not in the mood to make small talk and delay their departure any longer.

Rick glanced at his watch, also eager to start their journey. "We need to get going," he announced to Duncan. "We've got a long drive ahead of us."

Gibbs nodded his goodbye to the club owner and followed Rick outside to a nondescript blue van. Townsend stopped and folded his arms. "You carrying any weapons?" he asked.

The NCIS agent frowned, unhappy with the prospect of going into an unknown situation unarmed. Unfortunately his options were limited so he reluctantly took out his SIG and handed it over.

Rick made sure the safety was on and stuck the gun in the back of his pants. "That all?"

Gibbs nodded, failing to mention the knife he had strapped to his ankle. Rick held out his hand. "I need your cell phone, too."

"Are you paranoid, or what?" Gibbs commented, finding the phone and holding it out.

Townsend placed the phone in his pocket. "Even with your references, the fact is I just met you. I'd be a fool to not be cautious; your items will be returned after we arrive at the camp and I've gotten to know you better."

There was no way to disagree with Rick's logic, so Gibbs let the issue go. If he needed a weapon later, he'd have to take one. Getting to the camp was the main priority; everything else would have to be improvised.

"Let's hit the road," Rick commented, and jogged around the van to climb into the driver's seat. Gibbs joined him on the passenger's side, waiting until the engine was running before revealing what was on his mind.

"What about the cop you were going to pick up? Did you change your mind?"

Rick smiled gleefully as they made their way cautiously through the empty streets, heading for the interstate and out of town to the north. "I already took care of it," he replied. "I saw an opportunity to grab him and took it. The operation was flawless – I even made sure he was in a location without any cameras on the surrounding buildings. There shouldn't be any way to trace his disappearance."

"You already have him?" Gibbs asked somewhat disbelievingly. "Where?"

Rick tilted his head toward the back of the van. "Got him in a crate back there. He's drugged, so he won't cause us any trouble for a while."

Gibbs thought about the kid lying helplessly in the back and felt his stomach tighten into a knot. He wanted to find Tony, but not like this. It went against everything he believed in.

"Have we got very far to go?" he asked, giving his companion a sideways glance.

Rick settled comfortably into his seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the window edge. "Oh, yeah, it will be quite a while. Our camp is about as far into the woods and still in the United States as you can get. We don't want to take any chances on being discovered. The most important thing right now is obeying all the traffic laws so we don't get pulled over. I don't know how many idiots get caught for speeding or running a red light and then their real crimes are found out during the car search. Slow and steady and we'll get there in about ten hours."

Gibbs' eyebrows rose into his forehead but he didn't respond. Maybe in that amount of time he could figure out a way to release their victim but not piss Rick off in the process.

"So tell me more about your operation. What exactly am I getting into?" He wanted as much intel as possible before arriving at their destination.

Rick's grey eyes darted toward him then back to the road. "I've been training slaves for about eight years…..I had a sub I'd trained for myself, but he wasn't working out anymore. I met someone who wanted a slave and offered me a good price, so I sold him and made a nice profit. I realized it was an untapped market and I'm a good slave trainer," he chuckled darkly, "except for this new s.o.b. I'm hoping one of my men will be able to get him under control while I'm gone."

"I'd always heard this kind of thing existed, but I never believed it," Gibbs offered. "How much of a risk am I taking that we'll get caught? Even with the Sawyer movement, human trafficking is still illegal."

Rick gave an amused grin – he obviously had no moral or legal problems with the enterprise. "I can understand your concern, but we're safe. There's a network surrounding the practice, with several large auctions that take place in various parts of the country, usually near a port to make transportation easier. It's a lot simpler to transport a slave on a ship than any other method."

"Are most of your clients from other countries?" He continued to ask questions even as the information he was gaining made him nauseous; he stared out the window to avoid having to look at the man next to him. It was hard to accept people could actually do this to other human beings.

"That's the beauty," Rick replied sagely, unaware of Gibbs' inner turmoil. "We don't sell domestically – too much risk. All our clientele come from abroad. There are a lot of people around the globe willing to pay a ridiculous amount for an American slave. And of course, there is my specialty…..law enforcement officers. I get an even better price for slaves who served in some type of military or federal agent capacity. There's something erotic about forcing GI Joe or Elliot Ness to go to his knees and suck your cock." The deep chuckle from low in his throat echoed in the quiet van.

DiNozzo must be like catnip for this demented bastard. His senior field agent's handsome All American boy looks would be the epitome of what Townsend wanted to sell to the highest bidder. Throw in Tony's noncompliant attitude and background as a fed – he would definitely make them a lot of money. Gibbs wondered how far Nakamura would go to get his hands on DiNozzo, to force the former cop to sit in the floor like the silent sub always trailing in the Asian's wake. He couldn't imagine silencing Tony's voice for any significant amount of time; it was one of the things he found perverse enjoyment in even when Tony was prattling on about something inane. Of course, there were moments he could think of nothing better than a break from the idle banter only DiNozzo could conjure up, but eventually he missed it. Those diatribes about movies, television, music, minute-by-minute accounts of his day – Gibbs found himself missing them desperately while Tony had been away as Agent Afloat. He supposed it was only in its absence that he had come to appreciate what he had lost.

Rick was glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry," Gibbs mumbled. "I was woolgathering."

"The past is with us wherever we go," Rick stated evenly. "I was a psychiatrist before this line of work caught my attention."

That little background tidbit surprised Gibbs, but he didn't let his face show it.

"You were a shrink? Does being able to psychoanalyze your recruits help any?"

"Sometimes," he responded cryptically. "It's good to know a person's trigger points."

Gibbs grunted noncommittally.

"Don't tell me you have a thing against psychiatry. Believe me, Leroy, people like you spend more time than you realize observing and evaluating your opponents. You call it reconnaissance and I call it analysis."

"You're a long way from psychiatry now," Gibbs commented, trying to keep the disdain from seeping into his voice. How someone at one time dedicated to helping people could go this far astray, he didn't know.

"That's the truth," Rick agreed, his expression unreadable as he changed the subject. "We'll stop in a few hours and stretch our legs. I'll pick some place isolated and we can let our newest addition out to relieve himself. It can get messy back there if we wait too long."

Gibbs stared straight ahead; the presence of this man was enough to make him ill, but he couldn't let that get to him. He'd ride shotgun for the devil himself if that's what it took to find his missing agent, consequences be damned.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Fornell strode off the elevator and into the bullpen, stopping in the middle.

He in turn gazed at both of the seated agents who had stopped working to look at him; Ziva appeared bemused and McGee's eyes were somewhat uncertain.

"So what have you got?"

McGee flicked a glance at his partner who issued him an enigmatic smile – it wasn't quite the same as having Gibbs grill them on a task, but it was close and somewhat reassuring all the same.

Ziva stood and approached the FBI agent. "I am assuming you would like information regarding Tony. We might ask you the same question."

The older man pursed his lips. "Right now I've got a whole lot of nothing. My leads are going nowhere and Gibbs has pulled a vanishing act. Care to explain?"

McGee joined their conversation, standing close so they could keep their voices low. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" The confused expression on Fornell's face quickly morphed into disbelief. "That idiot. He went after DiNozzo, didn't he? How? What angle is he working?"

Ziva shook her head. "We do not know exactly. He left immediately after receiving a two week suspension for what happened with Nakamura and we have no way to contact him. Besides, if he had wanted you to be aware of this he would have told you himself." She folded her arms.

"The reason he didn't tell me is because I might have stopped him from doing something so insane without any backup. I guess I shouldn't be surprised considering his fondness for DiNozzo and all."

McGee raised his eyebrows questioningly at Ziva, who gave a slight tilt of her head in return.

"What do you mean, fondness for DiNozzo?" McGee asked. "Tony's been on Gibbs' team for years, of course he cares what happens to DiNozzo."

Fornell sighed in exasperation. "For a couple of top-notch investigators you two can be kind of dense. Or maybe you just don't want to acknowledge what's been right in front of your faces all this time. Lord knows there's enough of that going around." He scratched his head. "Seriously, with all your computer tech savvy," he nodded at McGee, "and your elaborate spy contacts," he assessed Ziva., "you don't have a damn thing? What about Sciuto and Mallard? Either of them living up to the genius status Gibbs is always bragging about?"

McGee shifted nervously and Ziva stared at the floor. McGee spoke first. "Sorry, Tobias, we have no idea where they are. Nakamura's smart enough not to use cell phones registered in his name and none of his credit cards are showing activity, so I'm guessing he's using cash. I'm sifting through his financial holdings, but they're so complicated it might take me a month to get anything sorted out."

Ziva blinked sadly. "None of the people I have contacted are willing to say anything. I get the feeling we are being blueballed."

Fornell frowned at her comment and looked helplessly at McGee. "I think she means stonewalled. It kind of sounds the same," McGee interpreted apologetically.

"Whatever," Ziva added irritably. "You know what I mean; I get the impression some of them might have information but are afraid to speak openly."

Fornell bit his lip before speaking. "Alright. Sacks and I are continuing to investigate any possibilities we can find. I'll be in touch if anything breaks. You'll do the same?"

"Of course," Ziva answered.

McGee opened his mouth but closed it when Vance turned the corner and moved purposefully over to them.

"I heard you were in the building, Agent Fornell. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fornell remained unperturbed by the interruption. "I just popped in to visit with my friends, see how they're doing without their Papa Bear around. I was actually on my way out." He faced the agents. "McGee, David." He turned to go, ignoring the hard glare Vance gave the two MCRT members.

"I'll see you to your car," Vance suggested stonily, joining Fornell in the elevator. Fornell's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak as the shiny metal doors slid shut.

McGee let out a huge breath of air. "You know if Vance finds out we're still investigating this case, we're both going to end up assigned to a team in Outer Mongolia."

Ziva looked thoughtful. "I have only been there once, and I did not think it was so bad." She laughed at McGee's expression. "I am teasing. You are right, and we will not get caught. Tony…..and Gibbs…..are counting on us."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony had slipped into a state of near oblivion. He drifted in a murky haze where he couldn't feel the people touching him, couldn't feel the whip hit his body, couldn't hear the words Steve hurled out to taunt and torment him.

When he blinked his eyes open the images he saw were jumbled, distorted, and out of sync with what he felt he should be seeing. Forms loomed large then retreated into tiny specks, sounds were at once sharp and metallic, then elongated and slow – it was like being in a carnival funhouse without the fun.

A smack on his face brought everything into distinct focus again.

"Release him," Steve ordered. "Rick can deal with him when he gets back tomorrow morning. This guy is obviously too stupid to save his own life."

Tony decided that, coming from Steve, he'd take the insult as a compliment.

Suddenly his arms were loose and stinging painfully. He remembered watching a documentary once about killer bees that traveled by the thousands and could kill a man in a matter of seconds. Funny the useless information that came to his mind in these types of situations. It was the kind of stuff that might only prove useful if he was abducted by the producers of Who Wants to be a Millionaire.

His legs were freed next, and he immediately collapsed to the wooden floor of the podium. He took heavy breaths, trying to readjust to the ability to move after so many hours in one position. His muscles spasmed beneath his skin, twitching like currents of electricity surged through his tingling limbs.

Out of his blurry vision, he could see Steve's black leather boots moving in front of him once more. Tony raised himself up on unsteady arms and collected his strength; Steve turned away, talking to Josh, and DiNozzo realized this was his one chance to do something unexpected, to play the wild card and possibly change the potential outcome of events. It was beyond a long shot and would probably get him killed, but that didn't scare him very much right now.

Adrenaline and anger surged along his veins, and with a mighty heave born of intense rage, Tony lunged forward, knocking Steve off his feet and onto his back. Moving as quickly as someone in his condition could manage; Tony slipped behind his tormentor and wrapped an arm around Steve's neck. He was glad they were on the ground, since he didn't have to worry about being able to stand and could focus all his effort on breaking the man's neck. Tony locked his arm into position and squeezed, hoping the sparring time with Gibbs had been worth more than just letting him get a glimpse of his Boss' ass.

Steve scrabbled at Tony's arm but couldn't shake him loose, inspiring Tony to tighten his hold even more. A soft whimper escaped Steve's lips as his struggles decreased. Tony grabbed a handful of Steve's hair and positioned himself to deliver a sharp twist to Steve's head, just like Gibbs had shown him years ago.

Another set of feet rushed forward. "You're going to kill him!" Josh yelled, attempting to get Tony's attention. DiNozzo looked up, green eyes wild with fury and indignation.

A grimace twisted Tony's usually charming features. "Good," he growled through clenched teeth.

Several guards ran up on the podium and joined Josh, who stood watching without intervening. Steve suddenly wrenched his body to the side and forced a weakened Tony to lose his grip.

It took little effort for the guards to pull Tony loose, since his strength was quickly waning. The chokehold was effective, but he didn't have the stamina to sustain it and he doubted he could have worked up enough force to snap a toothpick let alone Steve's neck. Steve took the opportunity to crawl away, gasping and clutching at his throat.

"You piece of shit," he rasped. Josh took a step back, wary of the older man's ire. Tony knew he was in for a serious reprisal, but the livid shade of purple Steve had turned was definitely worth it. He would have given anything to kill his tormentor.

"I've never been attacked by a slave before," Steve said as he struggled to his feet; prowling over to Tony and delivering a harsh kick to his ribs. Tony curled up and groaned, his battered body not quite prepared to take the additional abuse. Steve used his foot and rolled Tony onto his back, the brown-haired man cringing when his torn flesh was pressed onto the wooden surface. The heavy boot rested flat on his chest and forced him to maintain contact with the floor; Tony gasped and his eyes flew wide as the pressure on his ribs increased and the pain in his back flared unrelentingly.

"What have you got to say now, pretty boy?" Steve watched him dispassionately.

Tony wished he could supply an appropriately annoying reply, but he couldn't seem to formulate any coherent words and continued to gasp and wheeze. His sight wavered and he knew the fight to stay conscious was not a battle he was going to win. His eyelids fluttered and the last thing he noticed before everything went black was the heavy boot heading straight toward his temple.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick patted his pockets before he finally located his ringing phone and tugged it free from his pants. "Yeah," he said gruffly. At least Gibbs could respect his lack of frills – there was nothing else about the man he could find redeeming. "He did what? You're kidding me." There was a pause while Townsend listened, his jaw tightening as he ground his teeth. The hand gripping the phone turned white. "Keep him restrained and locked down – I'll personally deal with his punishment when I get back." He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "About six more hours. He'll regret his behavior; we've been far too lenient and it's time to get him under control once and for all. I'll take care of it – I don't intend to let this incident go."

Gibbs took slow and even breaths despite the concern he felt listening to the conversation. He reigned in his emotions, forcing his body to stay loose and relaxed; his face a mask of only mild interest that would be expected of anyone. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Problem?" he asked smoothly.

Rick cursed under his breath. "That new guy I told you about. Steve's my best trainer and even he can't get the whelp to heel. I stand to make a small fortune on breaking this guy, and I intend to collect."

"What's his background? Is he law enforcement?"

"NCIS," Rick answered. Gibbs responded with a blank stare since he didn't trust his voice to reply.

"As a former marine you should have heard of them; it stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service. He's basically a federal agent for the Navy."

Gibbs kept his eyes on the road as his heart lodged in his throat. _Tony._

Rick kept talking. "Pretty thing; green eyes, thick brown hair, tanned skin. I still don't understand how he's held out so long, especially with his background."

The only sign Gibbs gave of his increasing anxiety was the muscles bunched at the base of his jaw. Damn, he needed a cup of coffee.

"His background?" the agent prompted, not sure he wanted to hear the explanation.

"I suspect he experienced some type of sexual abuse as a child; even in the short time we've had him I've noticed most of the signs. He had a fairly serious flashback when we first got him. I hoped those memories would've pushed him right over the edge. I guess I was wrong."

_Good job, DiNozzo_, Gibbs thought. He'd often wondered what nightmares his senior field agent endured growing up, but it still didn't make hearing someone else say it out loud any less shocking.

The side of him that wanted to protect Tony from all the pain of the past and from whatever was happening to him right now reared its head. He had to see DiNozzo soon, had to know that Tony was alright and that his agent hadn't been beaten down too much. He was grateful that from the sound of it DiNozzo hadn't submitted to them yet.

"What will you do to punish him?" Gibbs wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but he had to be prepared to deal with it.

Rick clicked his teeth. "I don't know, but I'll think of something appropriate. He's got to be broken; I won't have his disobedience influence the others."

They continued to ride in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. After several hours the van was directed down an off ramp toward an out of the way exit.

In between worrying about Tony, Gibbs had been wracking his brain for a way to release the hostage in the back without tipping his true identity to Rick, or to make his new employer think he was too much of a screw up to take into their fold. Without a weapon, his options were limited and for now his best bet might be to do nothing until they reached the camp. He would have to protect the kid from the inside.

When Rick hopped out his side of the van, Gibbs followed, making his way around the back. A wave of compassion swept over him when the dark haired boy was pulled out into the moonlight, eyes blinking and legs shaking nervously. The kid attempted to hold himself tall, a testimony to his training as a cop. He opened his mouth when he noticed Gibbs, but shut it quickly at the slight shake of the older man's head.

"Someone's going to come looking for me," the officer said firmly. "You should just go ahead and let me go now before this gets any worse for you."

Gibbs maintained his silence and Rick laughed. "Thanks for your concern, but I think we've got everything covered. Now take a piss and I'll give you some water."

The guy didn't have much choice since he was bound by leather cuffs locked together in front of him, and he didn't put up much of a fight either. Gibbs doubted Tony had been so easy to handle. After the young man relieved himself, Gibbs led him to the van again. He looked over his shoulder at Rick, who was standing on the outside of the vehicle. Gibbs climbed in to pull the boy up. When he did, he leaned close to the kid's ear. "Stay calm and I'll try to help you."

The kid stumbled and appeared startled, but he nodded his head and said nothing as he was forced inside the trunk. Gibbs had done what he could to reassure the boy; he couldn't risk anything else or both their lives might be at stake.

Once again the silent ride resumed. Rick turned on the radio, changing stations until he found a call-in show featuring a psychiatrist. The older man entertained himself by explaining how the therapist's advice was almost always wrong, and Gibbs added a few grunts to the conversation when a response was required. The hours slid by slowly; eventually it was time to stop again. Gibbs held his breath as the van doors were opened and the cop was lifted out of his tiny compartment.

When the young man swayed precariously, Gibbs was sure he was too out of it to do anything. Then suddenly, with speed and agility he would have never imagined, the kid burst to life, barreling a shoulder into Gibbs and running straight ahead into the forest.

"What the hell?" Rick yelled, and took off after him. Gibbs pulled himself off the ground and joined the pursuit. He hoped like hell the kid could run fast.

The sounds of snapping brush and heavy breathing filled the night air. Gibbs followed the sounds, stopping momentarily when a cry pierced the darkness. He surged ahead, coming out of a thicket of bushes to stand at the edge of a ravine. Rick stood at the top, gasping for air, and a crumpled body lay at the bottom.

Rick glanced at Gibbs. "He fell. Do you think he's dead?"

Gibbs didn't know for sure, but guessed it was likely. Guilt washed over him in a crushing wave. _Damn._

"I'll go check," Gibbs said, starting down into the gulley before Rick could stop him. It took several minutes to reach the kid's side; he sighed deeply when he got close enough to realize the boy's eyes were wide and sightless. The young man's head was twisted at an unnatural angle, his neck broken.

Gibbs didn't move as Rick stepped past him and knelt by the body. "What the hell was he thinking?"

The NCIS agent shrugged, trying to accept that he had done all he could for the boy. He pushed aside any feelings of regret to deal with later.

"I have no idea," Gibbs stated, glancing around him. "Is this typical of the way you operate? Cause I can't say I'm overly impressed."

Rick shook his head and frowned at the implication he was incompetent. Barely controlled anger rolled off him in waves. "This is a total fuck-up. We need to get out of here before we run into someone and it gets any worse." He stood, regaining some control. "I've got a shovel and a tarp in the van – let's take care of the body."

Gibbs followed the ponytailed man out of the ravine, forcing himself not to think about what they were about to do. He made a silent vow to return here when this was all over and see the boy had a proper burial.

Rick, however, would receive no such mercy. If things worked out the way he planned, there wouldn't be enough of Townsend left to fill an urn.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony's existence had boiled down to just one thing; taking the next breath. It should have been simple, but the plague had taught him otherwise. Sometimes the lungs decided not to cooperate, and they could stubbornly refuse to follow orders.

When he was able to think somewhat coherently, he figured it was more his ribs than his actual lungs that were causing the problem. He didn't know if any of his ribs were broken, but they were damaged enough to make taking a deep breath of air next to impossible. The pallet in his cell didn't provide much comfort, although it was better than the wooden platform outside, and he could at least curl on his side and rest his tender back.

He made sure not to move, staying in the same position he'd managed to crawl into after Steve and his cronies tossed him into the cell again. He ignored the sounds of guards and other slaves walking back and forth along the hall as the day's activities continued. He didn't acknowledge the overwhelming thirst and constant pangs of hunger. He blocked out the pain in his muscles from his arms and legs being stretched taut for so long. He didn't pay attention to the pounding radiating from the side of his head where Steve had kicked him. And he pretended he couldn't feel the hands that had violated him over the previous hours.

He only thought about the next breath.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

By the time Gibbs arrived at the compound, there was no doubt in his mind that helping Tony escape would be no easily accomplished task.

They had parked the van in a storage facility at the edge of a lake so large he couldn't see the end of it – it stretched before him like a placid ocean of dark murky water, the depths of which he could only imagine. Small fir trees dotted the shoreline, springing up amid a variety of jagged rocks and boulders. Beyond the craggy shore, a forest of dense wilderness grew vast and forbidding, the light from the sun all but disappearing just a few feet into its canopy. Steve had gone to a small marina and removed a boat, beckoning him aboard with a wave of his hand.

Gibbs climbed in, steadying himself as the small craft edged its way into the center of the lake. "Where are we going?" he asked.

Steve navigated the boat with practiced ease. "We have about another hour before we get to the camp. Like I said, it's about as out of the way as I could find; I didn't want to take any chances on being discovered."

"Is it difficult to bring in supplies?" He wanted as much information as he could gather; the thick growth of trees and stark rocky cliffs didn't bode well for getting back to civilization any other way besides on the water.

"Staples are brought in once a month on a larger boat. Otherwise, this little vessel is the only way in or out – escaped slaves haven't been an issue as a result. There are only a few of us who have keys, and I keep a twenty four hour guard on the ship. We're miles away from even the smallest town, and the terrain is pretty unforgiving up here. Trying to walk out would be a fool's mission. There's no way anyone could swim this; it's too deep and cold."

"What about communication?" Rick didn't seem to mind giving him details about the operation, and he wasn't going to be shy about asking.

"No cell phone or satellite reception so internet won't work. We have a couple of land lines, but they aren't the most reliable. We do the best we can, but once you're out here it's pretty much its own world." Gibbs didn't miss his sadistic grin. "I kind of like it like that."

"It's your own private kingdom," the silver haired man observed, turning his face into the wind.

"Something like that," Townsend agreed. "I become a god here, making decisions of life and death, of compassion or punishment. As a Dom it's the ultimate high since I'm the Master of everyone and everything. I make all the rules and dictate the decisions. I think a man like you will enjoy it here, where you can always have others bending to your will."

Gibbs didn't turn around; not risking that Rick could read the emotions on his face. For him, being a Dom wasn't about taking power, but about fulfilling reciprocal wants and needs. It was about protection, and caring, and the willingness to share your basic desires with another out of mutual agreement. This place was the bastardization of all he believed in. He remembered how beautiful Shannon had been when she would stretch herself across his lap for a spanking, the anticipation shuddering through both their bodies. How could he have let Tony be trapped in such a horrible place?

Rick left him to his staring, and the water sluiced past the bow of the boat as mile after mile receded behind them until in the distance Gibbs could make out lights. Eventually they maneuvered into a small slip where he helped Rick secure the boat to a wooden pier.

His companion lifted a quizzical eyebrow. "You seem to know your way around a boat."

Gibbs laughed a little. "Navy man, remember? There's not much about a boat I don't know."

"I knew you'd be useful to have around." Rick slid the keys into his pocket and nodded a greeting to the armed guard waiting for them. Gibbs didn't miss the semi-automatic rifle slung across the man's back – they took security seriously. He followed Steve up a sloping embankment and down a rocky path that wound its way through the trees, coming out next to a tall wire fence topped with barbed wire. "The fence is electric," Rick explained, "but it's turned off when we enter and leave or receive a shipment of supplies." Another guard waited at the gate; the man leaned down and unlocked the entryway when they approached. It took several minutes to pass through the entrance, which was immediately secured behind them. Rick grunted another acknowledgement to the guard and continued walking toward a cluster of buildings.

"I'll give you the tour tomorrow," he stated, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling back the cuffs. "Right now I have a sub to discipline and some frustration over our lost slave to work off. You can watch since this is the guy you'll probably be working with from now on."

They entered one of the buildings to find several men of various ages playing poker. The men stopped and put their cards down when they stepped into the room. "Gentlemen, this is Leroy Jackson; he's here to try out as a new trainer." There were a few nods in his direction. The veiled looks of displeasure from two or three of the men didn't escape him.

"Steve," Rick directed his attention toward a tall, muscular Marine type with a crew cut and a permanent scowl. "Bring our troublemaker to the playroom; it's time to teach him who's Boss."

Gibbs twinged inwardly at the use of the term so familiar to him. It didn't feel right hearing someone else use it in reference to DiNozzo. He trailed after Rick as the man strode out of the building in a new direction, stealing himself for what was to come. No matter what condition Tony was in or what punishment they inflicted, it wouldn't benefit his senior field agent in any way for him to reveal his identity by losing control. He had to maintain cover if there was any hope in hell of getting DiNozzo out of this mess. He wouldn't react, wouldn't move, wouldn't even fucking breathe if he could avoid it.

He only hoped Tony didn't take one look at him and give it all away.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony was startled awake when rough hands pulled him up and dragged him out of the cell, down the hall, and into the training room. He really did try to not make any sounds, but he was certain the soft whimpers and moans were probably coming from him. His vision was still not entirely clear, and he could make out several figures in the room, but none of them were in focus enough to identify. It didn't matter much anyway.

Just take another breath.

He was draped over something hard and smooth, his stomach sliding over slick leather padding. His arms were spread out to each side and the cuffs on his wrists secured; the same was done with his legs and ankle cuffs until he was left kneeling with his ass in the air.

The realization he was secured to a spanking bench hit him and he panicked. He struggled feebly against the restraints; tears welled in his eyes and he fought to hold them back. He was so exposed, Steve could order anything done to him, and there was nothing, _nothing_, he could do to stop it. He prayed they just beat him; anything else was unimaginable. He wondered if he should have listened to Josh's advice, but it wouldn't have made a difference, this is how he would've ended up anyway, just without the knowledge that he'd done all he could to stop it. It was a small comfort.

His lungs started to burn.

Take another breath.

He turned his face to the side and let it rest on the cool leather beneath him. He would do this; without crying, without begging, without giving them any satisfaction.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Standing in a room filled with equipment designed to restrain subs, Gibbs waited next to Rick, impatient to see his agent.

When Tony was dragged into the room, it was obvious he didn't need to worry about his second-in-command blowing his cover. DiNozzo couldn't even stand up on his own – his feet barely shuffled along as they hauled him across the floor toward a spanking bench. Gibbs felt his fingernails digging into the flesh on his palms and he had to force his hands to unclench for fear he would draw blood.

Tony was stark naked, his body already covered in stripes, welts, and bruises. His hair was tousled all around on his head, and dark circles ringed his barely open eyes. Gibbs watched helplessly as they attached him to the bench, feebly tugging against the bonds before appearing to settle down and give up.

Rick moved over to a row of paddles hanging on the wall, picking one that was broad, flat, and drilled through with holes. He patted his hand with it as he walked back over to stand next to Tony.

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly, uncertain he had the willpower to watch the rest of this. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing his face and body to show no response, to stay completely devoid of any emotion.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony couldn't understand what was happening. Rick was suddenly there, yelling at him, telling him he was worthless, that whoever had molested him before had done him a favor because no one else could ever want him, that he didn't deserve love, or security, or caring. Tony watched Rick's lips move as the words blurred into a long string of sound.

He nearly howled when the first strike of the thick wooden paddle hit his rear. Instead he bit his lip and closed his eyes, letting the agony crest over him. There was another strike, then another, on and on until he was completely numb and he couldn't concentrate on breathing anymore.

Finally he drew a heavy gasp into his desperate lungs, and thought he smelled sawdust. That was impossible, so he chalked it up to hallucination.

Even so, it reminded him of Gibbs, and as he drifted in a sea of intolerable sensations, he let it surround him, soothe him, and carry him off into oblivion.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick rubbed his hand over Tony's flaming red ass, caressing the skin before landing another firm smack on the tenderized flesh. Tony stirred and flinched. Gibbs cursed inside his mind and made a solemn promise to one day break that hand in so many places Rick would never use it again.

His chest continued to rise and fall evenly while Rick struck Tony with the paddle; he heard DiNozzo groan in pain and his agent's eyes squeezed tight. As the blows continued, he silently witnessed Tony's mouth open in a soundless scream of agony; his agent gasped and trembled, until it grew clear that Tony had nearly stopped breathing and he looked like a dying fish left to flail on a dock.

Gibbs couldn't stand to watch any more, and he stepped forward, grabbing Rick's arm and stopping the next swing in mid-air. The Dom turned around and faced him, outraged at the interruption, and suddenly Gibbs found a Glock pointed directly at his head, the trainer who had glared at him earlier grinning maniacally like he'd just been given an early Christmas present.

If he died right now, Anthony DiNozzo would never get out of this hellhole.

Gibbs might have just condemned the man he'd come to save to either an early grave or a lifetime of servitude as a slave.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Notes: **Ok, maybe the last chapter was too much. In my defense, I've been reading Sherilyn Kenyon's Acheron, and she tortures that poor guy relentlessly during the first half of the book. Maybe my senses have been dulled!_

_Anyway, some comfort to soothe away the hurt. I hope you enjoy. ;-)_

_For anyone who has already read this, I removed a weird line at the end that I have no idea where it came from and reposted. Sorry_

Chapter 10

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Rick asked, eyes blazing fiercely, his hand clenched tightly around the paddle.

Gibbs could feel ice water flowing through his veins. He hated this man with every fiber of his being, but it was part of his natural personality to grow increasingly calm as the situation intensified. He didn't blink, just stared dead on into slate grey eyes, never breaking their locked gazes.

Most people would drop their stare, or glance away, or at least twitch. To Rick's credit he did none of these things, staying nose to nose with Gibbs and not conceding an inch, anger and barely controlled rage oozing from every pore. He was a taut wire ready to snap.

The NCIS agent nearly smiled. "I'm saving your investment," he replied coldly.

Rick did blink at that comment, his eyes stealing down to the form strapped to the bench, appearing to take the first clinical look at what was happening since the beating started. Tony's entire back and ass were flaming red, and his torso heaved with each desperate breath. Sweat covered him from head to toe, and his hair was now soaked and matted to his head.

"You're going to kill him if you keep this up. I know you want to put him in his place, but I doubt that you wanted that place to be six feet under." Gibbs stated so softly only the two of them could hear. He didn't elaborate further, deciding Tony's appearance spoke volumes.

Rick took a minute to calm himself, breathing slowly and evenly. "Lower your weapon," he directed his muscle bound partner.

Steve's jaw clacked unhappily, but he did as he was told, his eyes making it perfectly clear he would've liked nothing better than to blow the head off this interloper. Gibbs responded with his most insincere grin.

Townsend looked pointedly at his arm where Gibbs still held on tightly and the agent loosened his grip; the former psychiatrist for a second appeared a bit embarrassed by his loss of control. "I let my anger get the better of me," he conceded quietly. "I appreciate the reminder."

Steve joined the pair, a dark scowl on his face. "Are you seriously listening to this guy?" he demanded. "That boy has been nothing but trouble, and he's never going to fall in line if we don't teach him a lesson in fear and respect. He needs to understand his life is at stake if he doesn't start following orders."

Rick glanced at Tony and then at Gibbs.

Gibbs took advantage of the slight hesitation.

"Let me have him," he suggested. "I'll get him to submit without beating him half to death." Everything about his demeanor oozed confidence and authority. "I'll convince him to do it because he wants to, not because he has to." He gazed at Steve with complete disdain.

Rick frowned. "You want to start training him in this condition?"

"Absolutely," Gibbs remarked. "He's completely vulnerable, which makes everything immensely easier with his defenses lowered. Since I'm new and haven't hurt him yet, I should be able to create a bond the rest of you haven't. He'll see me as a protector." Gibbs glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eyes conveying his disapproval of the methods he'd briefly witnessed.

Rick considered the request; he nodded when he'd made his decision.

"Alright, it might actually work. We aren't having success with any other approach, and I can't risk losing another investment. How are you going to do this?"

Gibbs walked over to where Tony's head lay pressed against the table, his eyes firmly shut. He wanted to reach out and touch his agent, but now wasn't the time. "I'll need a room; I want you to take him there now so I can tend to his injuries. I'll have him stay with me full time."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Rick held up a hand for him to not speak. The trainer's jaw snapped shut.

Rick rubbed his forehead, trying to ease some of the tension from the past few days. "That's somewhat unorthodox, but I'll withhold judgment until I see if there's any change in his behavior. After our latest fiasco I'm going to have to get double the price I'd intended for him just to make up for the inventory we've lost. Josh," he snapped and a young man bolted forward. "Get Mr. Jackson a room ready in the main building. We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes, sir," the tow-headed youth replied, making a quick exit to complete the task.

Gibbs set about detaching Tony's cuffs from the restraints. He didn't like the way Tony was shaking, small tremors racing underneath his clammy skin. His normally golden color was ashen and he was breathing in tiny, shallow breaths.

Gibbs forced his hands to do only what was necessary and resisted the urge to soothe Tony; the longer his second-in-command was out of it the better, since he might get to explain what was happening before DiNozzo woke up and blurted out something that would give them both away. It was a difficult task; the willpower that had been like a suit of armor over the years was nearly shot to pieces.

"Are you sure about this?" The surly trainer asked Rick skeptically while he watched Gibbs' actions. "You just met this guy and you're turning over one of our most valuable assets to him without any questions about what he intends to do."

Rick folded his arms and gave Gibbs an assessing stare. "I have a feeling about Leroy. I think he has what it takes to get this boy straightened out. Are you afraid maybe he'll succeed where you haven't?"

"No, it's just…" the trainer stammered. "I don't want to see this screwed up."

"That's not for you to worry about. Leroy, I'd like you to meet Steve Carter, he's been a trainer for me since I started the business. He's one of the best, but everyone meets their match sometimes."

Gibbs turned away from Tony long enough to extend his hand, which Steve took grudgingly. "I'll introduce you to everyone else later." He looked at DiNozzo, who hadn't moved a muscle even after being released. "Do you think he can walk?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No. Is the building very far away?"

"We can carry him," Rick determined, motioning for a couple of guards to come over and maneuver Tony off the bench. Gibbs contained his anger when Tony slumped forward between them, completely limp and unable to provide even a small amount of assistance in moving his body. They dragged him out of the room and across the compound toward a white two story building that resembled a small hotel; balconies accented the rooms and the entryway was framed by rocking chairs and potted plants. Inside, they were taken down several hallways until they found Josh waiting nervously. He opened a door when they approached, holding it ajar while they manhandled Tony into a large bedroom decorated in sturdy wooden furniture and simple accents. A massive king-sized four poster bed dominated the area, a cozy brick fireplace stood in one corner, and several armoires and vanities lined the walls. The floors were a rich wood with plush area rugs covering various sections. A small pillow topped couch and loveseat framed the fireplace. Gibbs noticed a door on the other side of the room that he assumed led to an attached bathroom.

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow in Rick's direction, silently questioning the opulent surroundings. "We often entertain potential clients – they occasionally like to try out the merchandise before making a bid. They expect the accommodations to suit their needs. This room contains everything a Dom would require to test out a new slave."

Gibbs grunted then nodded at the bed indicating for the men to place Tony on top of it. "Lay him on his stomach," he ordered tersely, his sharp blue eyes watching them like a hawk. "And do it gently."

The guards didn't argue, apparently responding to his toppy vibes. Tony made a small moan when he was jostled into the new position, but didn't move once his long limbs were sprawled across the feather soft mattress.

"I'm going to need to take care of his back. Is there anything in here I can use?" he asked Rick, all business.

The owner led him into the bathroom where he was shown a small closet filled with basic medical supplies, including ointment and bandages. Gibbs nodded his approval.

"There are other things in here as well," Rick explained, guiding Gibbs over to one of the armoires which he opened to reveal paddles, floggers, whips and restraints. Another drawer contained lube, dildos, vibrators, and other toys. "Anything you don't find in here, we might have stored elsewhere. All you have to do is ask."

"Have you started any kind of sexual training yet?" Gibbs asked, nearly afraid to hear the answer. Regardless, he had to find out.

"Not really," Rick offered. "I felt like he needed to be more under control before we moved on to that phase of his education. With the auction coming up soon, that's going to have to change. A client like Nakamura will expect him to be ready to perform immediately."

Gibbs stayed silent; he wasn't sure how to respond. He was extremely grateful to find out Tony was more or less unharmed in that regard, but he wasn't sure what that indicated for the future. Based on what he'd seen so far, escape wasn't going to be easy or immediate – they might be here for a while before he figured out a way to get them out. In that case, the issue of "training" Tony was going to have to be addressed.

"Breakfast is at 8:00 am in the dining hall – it's in the building directly across from this one. Guards are posted in most hallways in case you need anything, or you can call – just hit zero and you'll be put through to the communications room." Rick scratched behind his ear. "Good luck. This could be your ticket to bigger and better assignments if you're successful."

With that comment, he walked out the door. The guards and Josh left too, with Steve straggling behind glaring at Gibbs, not trying to mask his dislike for the new arrival. Steve stopped in front of him.

"I don't know how you got Rick to trust you so fast, but I want you to understand that I'm second in charge here and I don't intend for that to change any time soon. I don't care how good you think you are."

Gibbs had spent a lifetime dealing with idiots like this, so the man's threats and bravado meant nothing to him. He only wanted him gone so he could tend to Tony.

"I have no interest in your job. Just let me do what I was hired to do and stay out of my way."

Steve narrowed his eyes and pushed his broad chest close to Gibbs trying to intimidate with his size. "I'll be watching you."

Gibbs didn't alter his bland expression. "Go ahead," he said, "I got nothing to hide. Maybe you'll learn something."

Steve snorted. "I don't think you'll teach me anything, old man." He pointed at Tony. "You'll need more than luck with that one; I think he's too damn suicidal to be trained." He stomped from the room and slammed the door behind him. It didn't escape Gibbs that the door wasn't locked; he guessed the guards patrolling were enough to keep everyone in line.

Gibbs turned on his heel and headed to the side of the bed where Tony lay motionless. He bit his upper lip and tried to decide what to do next; he needed to assess DiNozzo's injuries but first he had to get him to wake up.

He knelt so he was directly in Tony's line of sight, then gently ran a hand over his agent's hair and the back of his neck. "Tony," he said firmly, "open your eyes for me."

There was no response from the still form. Gibbs let his hand rest on Tony's head and he circled his thumb over the other man's sweat slick brow. "Wake up Tony, that's an order."

Tony's eyelashes fluttered somewhat, but there was no other movement.

Gibbs inhaled sharply and his lips formed a tight line. He squeezed the back of Tony's neck. "DiNozzo," he growled loudly. "Wake the hell up right now!"

Green irises suddenly appeared through tiny slits and Tony's breathing changed from slow and even to harsh and erratic; he blinked repeatedly and let out a soft gasp.

"Hey, calm down," Gibbs directed, placing a hand on Tony's bicep, attempting to ground him with physical touch. "You're ok, everything's ok."

Tony stared directly at him, but couldn't seem to comprehend the image. "B…boss?" he croaked, confused. "Wh….where…." He tried to rise up and look around, but stopped with a sharp hiss and a shudder that forced him back down.

"Don't try to move on your own, I'll help you." Gibbs carefully slid his hands under Tony and eased him over some, trying to help him get into a more comfortable position. "Is that any better?"

Tony looked at him like he was some type of alien life form and not the man he had known for years. "I…I don't understand." He was still breathing heavily, and had started shaking again. Gibbs grabbed a blanket and tossed it over his legs, avoiding the area on his back, concerned about the signs of shock.

"That's not important right now. Tell me where you hurt." His hand drifted over Tony's hair, and DiNozzo closed his eyes. "Stay with me, Tony. I need you to talk to me."

"I….my back and….uh, ass. Hurts really bad." He winced and partially opened his eyes. "Ch…chest….ribs, stomach….everything." His voice was barely a whisper.

Gibbs let his pinky trace the bloody gash on the side of Tony's temple. "How's the head?"

"Feels like…it's going to…explode." His eyes drifted closed and he took several shallow breaths. "Are you….real?" he asked, not looking. His hand slowly moved over and gripped Gibbs shirt sleeve. "Please….please tell me…you're real."

There was a hint of desperation in Tony's voice Gibbs didn't like.

"Hey, I'm really here, see." He stroked his hand up and down Tony's cheek. "I couldn't leave you without someone to cover your six. Look at the kind of trouble you get into. "

Tony looked at him again, and Gibbs was shocked by the unguarded expression. "They've been….I tried….to fight them….I tried," his voice cracked and his green eyes were wet.

"I know, Tony," Gibbs reassured. "I know, but I've got you now. It's all going to be fine, you don't have to fight anymore."

Tony let out a shuddering sigh.

"I need to take care of your back, ok? I'm going to get some supplies in the other room; it'll only take a couple of minutes." Tony tightened his grip on Gibbs' shirt sleeve and he gasped a little harder. "I won't be gone long. I'm not going to leave you; trust me."

He laid his hand on Tony's. "Trust me," he repeated. Tony finally nodded, his heavy eyes never leaving Gibbs' face.

The lead agent quickly gathered what he needed from the bathroom and returned to find Tony once again unconscious, his dark eyelashes contrasting harshly with his pale skin.

Gibbs dipped a washcloth in a bowl of tepid water and rung it out, wiping it over the blood caked on the side of Tony's face. DiNozzo's eyes opened and he flinched.

"Shhhh…I'm just cleaning you up." The strained lines on Tony's face eased some. Gibbs continued to wipe away the blood and sweat. "That's better," he said once Tony's face was clean. He put the towel in the bowl and picked up a gauze bandage and some medical tape. He placed the pad on Tony's discolored temple and tore the tape with his teeth, adhering it in place. Next, he grabbed the tube of antibacterial ointment. "I'm going to rub this on your back; it's probably going to hurt some. Think you can handle that?"

DiNozzo's hand snaked out and twisted in his shirt again. "Ye…yeah." He didn't sound convinced.

The older man squeezed out some of the greasy cream and rubbed it in his hands to warm it. He leaned over and distributed a thin layer over the more prominent marks. A few of the lashes had broken the skin, but most had left swollen, raised abrasions. A large, blackish bruise wrapped around DiNozzo's side. Tony gripped the blankets and groaned despite the delicate touch Gibbs was using. The older man started imagining ways to kill the people using torture techniques that even Ziva would avoid.

He continued to work his way down Tony's back, stopping occasionally to stroke the other man's soft brown hair and say whatever he could think of that might be distracting from the discomfort. Gibbs licked his lips when his fingers ghosted over the younger man's lower back, trying to remind himself this was a strictly platonic moment, and Tony didn't need him to complicate matters with his own inappropriate desires. It didn't make having to treat the welts on Tony's ass any easier; he'd had quite a few fantasies about touching the firm round flesh that was currently spread beneath him.

"Boss?" Tony whispered while Gibbs did his best to knead the cream in without it being too difficult for either one of them. Heat radiated from the reddened area, and the soft butt cheeks quivered and squeezed together when the cool ointment touched his skin. Gibbs could tell Tony was trying his best not to cry out and admired the display of grit.

"I'm finished," Gibbs responded, his voice huskier than he intended it to be. How could he have ever disregarded his attraction to this man? He moved back over where Tony could see him and pushed DiNozzo's hair off his face, wanting to do more but cautious of causing further pain..

He smiled sadly when Tony wrapped his fingers in his shirt again. "What…..what's going on? I don't…." He stopped and took a shaky breath. "Don't understand."

"We're still at the compound. I was able to get in undercover." Gibbs continued to stroke Tony's hair, letting the connection calm them both.

Tony's already hazy eyes grew more confused. "Is anyone….coming to help?"

Gibbs shook his head, determined to explain everything to his agent. Tony would deal with it. "I didn't think it was safe to send a message out, so no, there isn't anyone coming to get us. We're on our own."

Tony hesitated, gathering his strength to continue. "How…how….d'you find me?"

"I followed Nakumara and then I got lucky. They think I'm some kind of super Dom trainer; said you were the worst sub they ever met and gave you to me." He ruffled Tony's hair affectionately.

Tony took a pained breath and his mouth moved again, but nothing coherent came out. "Hey, there's plenty of time for questions after you rest. I swear I won't move an inch. Sleep, and I'll be in this exact same spot when you wake up. Ok?"

He could tell Tony was still fighting to stay awake, and the cloudy green eyes kept staying closed for longer and longer periods as exhaustion refused to let go. Gibbs' hand stayed nestled on the back of Tony's neck, his thumb rubbing circles behind DiNozzo's ear until Tony's tense muscles eventually relaxed and he slept.

Gibbs sighed and shifted his weight, stretching out on the bed next to his agent. He planned on keeping his promise to stay nearby; he put the time to good use by reviewing all that he had seen of the compound, all that he had discovered about the operation, trying to develop a plan to get them safely out and away from this mess. Hours passed, and he dozed a little, never fully settling into sleep, his mind always alert for anything out of sorts. He'd come up with a few sketchy ideas for escape, but needed more information before he would feel comfortable with any of them as viable options. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any way to avoid being here for at least a short time, which added a layer of complication he wished they didn't have to deal with – he wished Tony didn't have to go through any more.

The younger man whimpered in his sleep, and Gibbs pulled the blanket higher up around his shoulders waiting anxiously until he rested again; at least Gibbs had found him, and whatever happened now it was the two of them together, their fates intertwined and their futures dependent on one another.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony could feel a heavy hand resting on his thigh and he wondered who it belonged to; it wasn't unusual for him to wake up with a stranger in his bed, but it wasn't something he typically enjoyed. Trying to simultaneously remember someone's name while getting them out of his apartment and not being rude or offensive took a lot of effort. He moved a little, and pain shot through his nervous system; his eyes jerked open and he gasped when he met the startling blue gaze of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Wh….what?" Memories cascaded across his addled brain and they started to coalesce into coherent thoughts. The pain radiating from various parts of his anatomy provided an anchor into his current reality and forced him to recall most of what had happened the last twenty-four hours.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked, his gruff voice filled with uncharacteristic concern and worry.

"I…forgot where….I was for a minute." His own voice was hoarse and weak; he licked his dry lips to try and find some moisture and attempted to clear his throat. "You're still here," he commented softly, blinking around the room to get his bearings.

"Told you I wasn't leaving," Gibbs answered. Tony didn't clarify that he wasn't afraid Gibbs would leave; when he fell asleep he thought he was dreaming and when he woke up his Boss would have never been there at all. It was a relief beyond words to find out he wasn't alone, even if it meant Gibbs was now in danger, too. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it. The shock of the former marine showing up here out of the blue still hadn't quite worn off.

"Do you need anything?" Gibbs asked, and Tony marveled at his decent and unexpected imitation of Florence Nightingale. "How about some water?"

Water sounded great, but other needs were more pressing. "I gotta….go to the head," he responded, recognizing that it was his aching bladder that had probably caused him to wake up in the first place.

"Alright. Here." Gibbs leaned down and eased his arm under Tony's chest, slowly rolling him over and lifting him forward. It caused Tony's ribs to protest, and the agony in his back flared anew. He clenched his teeth and hissed, unable to stop the mild shaking that coursed through him when he had to sit up and put pressure on his still burning ass. "Slow and easy," Gibbs coached. Tony looked at him like he was a replica of the man he'd known for so many years; he'd never experienced such a gentle Gibbs before – not with him anyway. This was the Gibbs reserved for children, the elderly, and the widows of dead marines. Not his senior field agent.

"I can do it," Tony protested, trying to salvage some dignity. Unfortunately when his feet touched the floor and he attempted to stand, he knew it was a futile effort. The room swayed around him and he was overcome with dizziness that rendered him completely unbalanced. An arm curled gently under his shoulder and around his back, holding him up.

"Not the time to be stubborn, DiNozzo." Tony gave up the pretense that he was anywhere near alright and let Gibbs shuffle him across the floor; Tony halted their progress about halfway to their destination.

"Hold on…a minute." A cold wave of sweat swept over him and he swallowed down the urge to puke. Gibbs didn't say anything, just kept him from falling over. When he felt steadier he nodded, and they moved forward again. Tony tried to ignore the fact that his fully clothed boss was guiding his bare naked ass across the floor; if he'd felt better he might have mustered the energy to be embarrassed by it or at least take advantage of it. Currently he could do neither. When they finally reached the toilet he put a hand on the sink to keep his balance and glanced sheepishly at Gibbs, who moved over to the doorway but didn't leave. Tony tried to ignore the fact it was Gibbs hovering while he did his business, and managed to pee without too much trouble beyond some pain and a burning sensation. He stepped back from the toilet when another bout of cold sweat hit him and he realized the room was spinning dangerously.

"Boss," he choked out right before his legs buckled and everything went grey for a minute; the next thing he knew Gibbs' arms were pulling him up and he was leaning against Gibbs' chest.

"Shit, DiNozzo." Gibbs was staring at the pinkish liquid in the bottom of the porcelain bowl. "You're pissing blood. How'd you get these?" he asked angrily, his hand touching the purple and green bruises covering Tony's side.

"I…uh…" Tony couldn't come up with an explanation since he was concentrating too much on standing up.

Gibbs' nostrils flared before he supported his protégé out of the bathroom, across the floor, and deposited him back on the bed, carefully lowering him down on his front. By the time Tony was prone he was soaked with sweat again and trembling violently. He couldn't decide which area of his body hurt the most since every part of him seemed to throb, pound, or burn equally.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Gibbs demanded sharply.

Tony blinked dazedly, trying to keep up with Gibbs' questioning. He could feel himself sinking fast. "Tied me up….kicked me….sorry Boss," he attempted to answer without the benefit of fully functioning brain cells.

"Ah, hell, Tony, you got nothing to be sorry for. Here." Gibbs took the washcloth and wiped away the newest layer of sweat from Tony's face. "I shouldn't have let them get you in the first place. I should have never sent you home. If you'd been with me this never would've happened."

Gibbs swept Tony's hair back and let rough knuckles trace down his cheek to his jaw.

Tony stared with a sense of disbelief. "Why…why are you doing that?" His voice cracked. "Why…are you…." He couldn't make sense of any of it…Gibbs was here, treating him like a day old kitten who'd been abandoned by its mother. It was nearly beyond his comprehension. Gibbs yelled at him, threatened him, demanded from him – Gibbs wasn't nice to him. Not like this.

"Touching you? Gibbs finished his sentence for him. "Because you want me to; because I want to." He said it without hesitation, like it was a statement of fact similar to 'the sun will rise again in the morning'. "Do you want me to stop?"

Tony tried to find words to respond but there was a lump in his throat that he couldn't dislodge so he shook his head mutely, closing his eyes when Gibbs stroked his cheek again. It was the most bittersweet feeling he'd ever known.

Before he could even try to say anything they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Gibbs grabbed a blanket and tucked it around Tony, whose eyes had grown round with fear. "Boss?" he whispered. "Are they….are they taking me…." He tried to control the quiver in his tone, but really, it was all too much to deal with. The kidnapping, the torture, finding Gibbs here – he couldn't stand the thought of enduring any more.

"I'll take care of it," Gibbs stated brusquely, "no one is taking you anywhere."

Tony watched him storm across the room and fling open the door and he almost felt sorry for whoever was standing on the other side. He'd only seen Gibbs like this a few times before; after Kate died and when the former gunnery sergeant was trying to protect Maddie Tyler were grim examples of Gibbs in hyper-protective mode. It was a revelation to be on the receiving end of that fierce protection. He was humbled and awed since it was something he'd never expected – Gibbs had always counted on him to take care of himself. Even when Tony'd had the plague and Gibbs ordered him not to die, the boss left him alone to follow the command without any babying or hand holding. Something in Tony's stomach fluttered when he realized Gibbs was doing this all for _him_.

Tony could see Josh standing in the hall, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Rick told me to bring you something to eat," he stammered, reminding Tony a little bit of McGee. "I made a couple of sandwiches and warmed some soup….I thought you might want to let Tony have some if he's been good so far."

"What the hell do you mean I might want to let him eat? Why wouldn't I let him eat?" Gibbs barked.

Josh's eyes dropped to the floor. "He only eats if he follows orders, shows respect – you know the Dom thing? I figured you had the same kind of rules." The kid looked slightly bewildered at the silver haired man.

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at Tony, taking in the thin frame of his agent. Tony knew he'd lost some weight, but he wasn't sure how much. Gibbs' eyes were ice cold stones as he put the pieces together and Tony could practically see the rage wafting off him like thin wisps of smoke.

His boss turned back toward Josh. "Give me that." He snatched the tray of food from the kid's hands and used his foot to kick the door shut in the stunned face.

He brought the food over and sat it on a table by the bed. Tony tracked him with his eyes since it hurt too much to do anything else.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Tony tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. "I had some….bread….um…yesterday….I think." He coughed a bit at the end, his head and ribs strongly protesting the action.

"Yesterday, you think? What did they want you to do to earn the right to eat?"

"Boss…." Tony could feel the clammy sensation return, and he wasn't sure if he could open his mouth without throwing up. Gibbs must have noticed, because a bowl appeared seconds before he started heaving, tiny streams of bile coming up from his stomach.

"It's alright, Tony, I didn't mean to upset you." Gibbs forced a glass of water at him when he was finished. "Try to drink some more." Tony took a few sips before shaking his head. The water was wonderful, but his stomach couldn't take much of it at the moment. "Can you eat now?" Gibbs asked. Tony considered the idea and shook his head again. He was starving, but he was also certain anything he ingested would come right back out and he didn't have the strength to throw up again. His mind drifted out of focus, and he thought he heard Gibbs saying his name but it was so small and far away he couldn't really tell. When the words finally made sense, he realized Gibbs was asking what was wrong. "Hurts," he said honestly, seeing no point in lying when his entire body ached like an abscessed tooth.

He must have looked fairly pathetic because he'd never seen Gibbs quite so concerned; his forehead furrowed and his eyebrows knitted together. The older man abruptly stood up – Tony forced himself not to reach after him - and went to a phone on a table near the wall. He punched a few numbers. "Tell Rick I need a doctor in here now. I don't give a shit, just do it!" He slammed the phone back in the receiver and returned to the side of the bed where he sat down and went back to stroking Tony's hair. "I'm going to get you some help, DiNozzo. Hang in there."

Tony let his hand curl up in Gibbs' shirt once more, reveling in the smell of Old Spice and sawdust that lingered on the man regardless of how long it had been since he'd last seen the basement. "Just don't…..leave." The fear of closing his eyes and Gibbs being gone was more than he could tolerate. With Gibbs here now he could endure anything, but alone….he couldn't keep fighting them alone. He was so damn tired.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs promised, repeating it over and over like a mantra, never letting his hand stray from Tony's brow. There was something so soothing about the repetitive movement, about the calm voice and comforting words that eventually the grey that had been edging Tony's vision took over and he let himself sink down into a quiet layer of darkness.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee stood in the doorway of Abby's lab and watched her flit about mumbling to herself. She simultaneously checked something in her microscope, typed into her computer and started a search, and reviewed a report from Major Mass Spec. In between all the activity, she wrung her hands and shook them out, pacing relentlessly from one machine to another.

She suddenly stopped moving and stood very still. "McGee!" she practically shouted. "Stop staring, it's creepy!"

"Sorry, Abs," he apologized, not asking how she knew he was there. "I didn't want to disturb you."

She spun around to face him and he held a Caf-Pow in front of him like a shield. "Thanks," she said softly, taking it from his hand.

"How's it going?" he asked.

Abby shrugged despondently. "Nowhere fast," she answered, and her shoulders drooped along with her pigtails. "Gibbs hasn't called to check in once, which means he's in trouble now, too. I never should have helped him with that fake id. What if he and Tony both disappear and we never find out what happened to them? What if they're gone forever?"

"They're both too stubborn to disappear forever, Abs. We'll find them, and then I'll help you put that locator chip you're always talking about under Tony's skin. I don't think any of us want to go through this again." He gave her a wan smile.

"No, and I plan on doing whatever it takes to protect them. Do you have what I asked you to bring?" She held out her hand expectantly.

Tim dug in his pocket and held out Tony's Mighty Mouse stapler. "I still don't understand what you want to do with this, Abby," he confessed. The Goth scientist simply bounced over to her table and added it to a small pile of items that included a copy of "It's a Wonderful Life", a picture of her and Tony after winning a bowling tournament with the nuns, and a pair of tube socks that were stiff and in need of a good washing.

Ziva entered the lab at a run, stopping suddenly when she got close to her friends. "I have them!" she proclaimed with excitement, holding out a pair of glasses toward Abby.

"Perfect," Abby commented, taking the glasses and placing them with another assortment of belongings that included a flask, a gold and silver medal, and a blurry picture of silver hair turning away from the camera.

Carefully Abby began placing the possessions into two separate black bags that closed at the top with drawstrings.

"What exactly are you doing?" Ziva inquired, face pinched into a scowl.

"I'm making a gris-gris; it's a Creole form of protection. There's one for Tony and one for Gibbs," she explained solemnly.

McGee tilted his head. "I thought those were used to cast spells on people?"

"Not always. My Nana only practiced good voodoo; she said the right charms can keep the people who own the belongings safe from harm," Abby immediately defended the practice.

Ziva's scowl grew harsher. "So you are going to say a spell over these," she waved her hands at the bags, "things?"

"Of course not," Abby responded indignantly. "I'm a scientist, not a voodoo priestess. No, for that we need the real deal."

"Excuse me?" McGee asked, confused. "Who's the real deal?"

"Mama Maison. She has a little shop in Dupont Circle that sells….ingredients and other stuff. She'll cast the spell. We have an appointment with her after work."

"We do?" Ziva asked skeptically. "I am not so sure about this Abby."

The Goth folded her arms. "Look, I know the two of you are doing all you can to find our boys, and I am too. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to try anything and everything. So are you gonna come help me or not?"

Ziva glanced at McGee out of the corner of her eyes. The computer specialist caved within thirty seconds of receiving Abby's intense puppy dog stare. "Alright, Abby, we'll go. But for the record, I think this is kind of crazy."

Abby smiled and hooked her arms through McGee's and Ziva's. "Sometimes it takes a little bit of crazy to even everything else out. You guys are gonna love Mama Maison. If we get there early enough maybe she'll give us a reading!"

McGee swallowed and Ziva's eyes grew round. He shrugged helplessly and sighed, not really knowing if he wanted his future told or not.

He wasn't sure any of them were in for a happy ending.

_NCISNCISNCIS  
><em>

Gibbs sat in the chair next to the bed watching Tony shiver and groan, wishing he could do something more to relieve the other man's discomfort.

Tony's green eyes opened blearily, and Gibbs hoped his second-in-command was aware enough to pay attention.

"Listen to me DiNozzo; when Rick gets back in here you have to be careful. You can't let it slip that we know each other. Call me Boss or Sir, nothing else. The name I gave them was Leroy Jackson."

Tony managed to nod at that information right before the door was thrown open and Rick entered, followed by Steve and another man who was short, had unkempt black hair sticking out everywhere on his head, and a three day growth of beard. His rheumy eyes darted around behind thick glasses.

"This is Dr. Anderson," Rick announced without preamble. "What's the problem?"

Gibbs stood to face the visitors. "He can barely stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time. He's pissing blood and puking, and he keeps shaking like he can't get warm. I'm not taking the responsibility if he dies on me." He gave Steve a hard and accusing glare. "This is somebody else's mess."

Rick followed the two men's gazes as they stared each other down. "Occasionally things get out of hand," he defended their actions. "I don't condone it, but it happens, especially with a belligerent sub who won't give up control. What do you think, Andy?"

He addressed the so-called doctor, who opened up a medical bag and pulled out a stethoscope and blood-pressure cuff. "Best to be hard on a slave in the beginning and teach them their place early on; you don't want them to get the wrong ideas." Gibbs noticed that when the doctor looked at him, one of his eyes was always pointing in the opposite direction. It was disconcerting and he had to force himself not to stare. The doctor, however, noticed his gaze and chuckled darkly.

The doctor leaned over his patient and listened to DiNozzo's heart, took his pulse, and finished with a blood pressure reading. He shined a light in Tony's eyes, checking the pupil reaction and evoking a flinch and muffled curse from his mostly out of it patient. He studied the bruising on Tony's side, palpitating the area which caused DiNozzo to writhe and twist away, only settling down when Gibbs finally put a hand on his shoulder. The physician even peeked at the contents of the unflushed toilet to assess the color of the urine. The man might look strange, but he was thorough.

When he finished he removed his glasses and cleaned them with his shirttail in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of Ducky. Instead of explaining the results of his examination, he hummed to himself and smiled vacantly.

"What's wrong with him?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

The physician's attitude shifted abruptly and he snarled, "I don't like you." Steve snorted and Rick rolled his eyes.

"Just answer the question, Andy. Leroy's new here, but I expect you to respect him the same as all the other Doms."

The doctor muttered something under his breath. "Still don't like him. Creepy blue eyes."

"Andy," Rick prompted, attempting to keep the physician on track.

Gibbs watched the man's eye dart around the room before the doctor gave a long suffering sigh. "Without more equipment it's hard to be certain, but I diagnose a mild concussion, cracked ribs that are making it difficult to breathe, and bruised kidneys that account for the pain and bloody urine." The doctor giggled. "You did a good job paddling his back and butt so they're going to hurt for a while. Lots of pretty bruises." He reached out and stroked Tony's ass causing DiNozzo to moan and shift. Gibbs stiffened involuntarily; it didn't take a genius to figure out this guy was crazy. "Let him sleep and give his some food. Nothing heavy, just soup and crackers will be enough for now."

Rick sighed heavily, clearly irritated by the situation. "How long will he be out of commission?"

Andy scratched his head. "Keep him in bed for at least three or four days; I'm sure ole blue eyes won't mind to watch out for him." He licked his lips in a gross parody of seduction. "Or I'll sit with him if you want. I promise he won't be bored."

Gibbs decided if the nutjob touched Tony again he was going to break the man's fingers.

"I want him to recover Andy, not get fucked to death," Rick chastised. "Now give him a shot or something to calm him down."

The doctor shuffled through his bag and pulled out a syringe and a vial, drawing up the liquid.

Gibbs approached Rick. "Is this a good idea? That man is insane."

Rick pursed his lips. "Andy has some issues; that's why he's here with me. I treated him after he lost his medical license for inappropriate contact with his own patients." Gibbs' frown deepened. "But he's actually a good doctor when he pays attention to what he's supposed to and keeps his dick to himself. Don't worry; he's not going to kill our boy."

There was nothing Gibbs could do except watch the doctor plunge the needle into Tony's thigh and hold steady when DiNozzo jerked and whimpered. "That's enough morphine to hold him until morning. I'll come back then," Andy explained. "Maybe I'll get a look at his morning wood? What do you think, Rick? Will you let me stroke him off – you know how much I love to do that while someone's high on morphine."

Gibbs took a step toward the lunatic before he stopped himself. Rick had already moved between Tony and the doctor. "No, you aren't allowed to play with this one. You have your own slave that you get to keep, remember? This one is off limits." Rick's voice was deep and threatening.

Andy pouted. "I know, but I like this one better. He's prettier."

Rick chuckled. "That's why he's going to earn us a shit load of money." He turned back toward Gibbs. "Do you need anything else? The painkiller should help; we'll keep him doped up the next few days so he'll rest. I can send Josh or somebody to sit with him if you'd rather not. I doubt it will be very interesting."

"I'll stay," Gibbs answered. "I want him to see me as the person taking care of him."

Rick nodded at that. "You're a smart one, Leroy, that's why I like you. Alright; we'll be back in the morning. Call if you need me."

Gibbs didn't move until after they left the room, when he let the tension ease from his shoulders, grateful to be alone with Tony again. He sat on the side of the bed and drew the covers over his charge, thankful DiNozzo seemed to finally be in a deep sleep. He stretched out alongside Tony's thin body and leaned against the headboard, letting his thigh rest against the other man's. DiNozzo rolled over with a pained grunt and squirmed closer to Gibbs, plastering his warm skin against the older man's and letting his hand rest on Gibbs' stomach. It didn't surprise Gibbs that even asleep, his agent's fingers curled up in his shirt and clutched it like a lifeline. Gibbs went back to petting Tony's hair, wondering how in the hell they had ever ended up like this.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee wandered through the shop trying not to bump into anything; there were so many jars, vials, pouches, and pots of exotic and unidentifiable liquids, powders, and gels that he was almost afraid to move. Books adorned an entire wall, other shelves contained what appeared to be various types of bones, feathers and shells were arranged in another section of the store, as were beads and multi-colored stones. Everything in the tiny, cramped shop shimmered, glittered and glowed – he wasn't quite sure if he should be afraid or mesmerized.

Ziva walked about without hesitation, picking up things here and there to inspect them, sometimes raising an eyebrow and other times letting out a snort, but seeming not all that put out by the unusual nature of the inventory.

Abby clapped her hands in delight when an elderly woman whose lifetime of wrinkles and somewhat hunched over stance indicated she was at least in her late eighties entered the room. Her long gossamer hair flowed down her back like a lion's mane, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with a hint of playfulness. She smiled at Abby, holding out her arms to the younger woman.

"Abigail! It is always a delight to see you!"

Abby rushed over and gave her a gentle hug. "It's great to see you, too. Let me introduce you to my friends; Madam Maison this is Ziva David."

"My pleasure," Ziva said, holding out her hand. The old woman took it in both of hers and squeezed gently.

"Hmmmm. Abigail said I would find you interesting, and she is quite correct, as usual. You have a very intriguing energy, young lady."

Ziva tilted her head, her ponytail trailing over her shoulder. "Thank you, I think."

"And this is Timothy McGee."

McGee also extended his hand, not sure what to expect. He startled a little at the soft yet firm touch of the woman's gnarled fingers.

"A bit skittish, this one. But you're right Abigail, he has a core of steel in his heart. I approve."

McGee let his eyebrows sink downward, trying to decipher the cryptic statement. He looked at Ziva who just shrugged nonchalantly.

Madam Maison hooked an arm through Abby's and marched toward the back of the shop, leaving Ziva and McGee to follow through a pair of heavy maroon curtains. The priestess? Shaman? Witch? McGee had no idea what would be the appropriate title - she took her seat in a large wooden chair with curved arms and velvet cushions. She arranged the flowing black dress she was wearing around her legs. For a second, as she settled into the chair, McGee caught a glimpse of the woman's high cheekbones and full mouth, and realized that when she was young she must have been a ravishing beauty.

He flushed red when the woman glanced up and saw him staring.

"Abigail, be a dear and hand me that photo album on top of the armoire." She pointed a long knobby finger toward a heavy piece of cherry furniture. Abby rushed to oblige, hovering over her shoulder as Madam Maison flipped through the pictures. "Here," she said. "Show this to Mr. McGee." Abby raised her eyebrows quizzically but did as told.

McGee found himself looking at a photograph of a woman in her mid-twenties, her dark raven hair curling over her shoulder. A bright smile warmed her face, and her eyes twinkled like sunlight. She was tall, willowy, and exquisitely beautiful.

"Does that answer your question, my boy?" McGee found her eyes poking holes through his soul, and he turned an even darker shade of red. How had she known what he'd been thinking?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied contritely.

"Good." She tilted her chin up, apparently pleased with his response. "Now, you have some items for me to examine, some co-workers you are worried about." Her tone was crisp, businesslike, but with a hint of Creole that McGee found fascinating.

"I do." Abby pulled the satchels out of her own oversized black bag trimmed with red feathers. "These belong to Gibbs and Tony. I was hoping you could use them to place a protective charm that would help keep our friends safe until they return home."

The old woman was looking closely at the items, her face somber. "Do you have the picture I requested?"

"It's right here." Abby went back to digging in her purse, eventually pulling out a slightly bent photo that she laid on the table in front of Madam Maison. McGee stepped closer to see an image of Gibbs and Tony that Abby had obviously taken when neither man was aware of it; Gibbs was staring at something out of sight and Tony was slightly behind him, following Gibbs' direction with his own gaze. The woman picked up the picture and stared at it for a long time.

"These two," she said after a while. "They are unaware of their bond?"

Abby cleared her throat and shared a smug glance with her colleagues. "I'm not sure what you mean. They've worked together a long time and they're friends…I don't really know about anything else."

The Madam smiled to herself. "Well, neither do they. More's the pity. Such a strong connection to be ignored; see the way they stand the same, tilt their heads the same. So much connection – I believe they will realize it soon. I just hope it doesn't frighten them away from each other."

"Why would they be afraid?" Ziva, McGee noted. Of course she wasn't afraid to voice the question they all had.

"I do not believe either man is good with his emotions; their feelings are strong, intense, and that is terrifying for this type so they tend to shut down and run away. It is much easier to ignore your feelings than deal with them, don't you think?" She gave Ziva a challenging stare, and the Israeli crossed her arms tightly. She did not answer what sounded like a rhetorical question.

"I told you guys there was something going on between them!" Abby gushed.

McGee couldn't help himself. "You can tell all of this from a picture and a couple of knickknacks?"

"Do you doubt me?" the old woman asked calmly, her gaze as lethal as Gibbs' without his morning coffee.

"Well, no," McGee backpedaled under her scrutiny. "It just seems….unlikely."

She snorted. "Not everything can be labeled in gigabytes or binary codes, young man. Some things involve the spirit, but that doesn't make them any less real." She turned away from him dismissively. "I will cast the charms, Abigail, but I warn you. These men will need more than a spell to keep them safe from harm. They are in grave danger, not only from their present circumstances, but from each other. Only time will tell if they are strong enough to survive the trial they are facing, and if either of them will return from it the same as before. Come my child, and get me the candles."

Abby nodded and began arranging things for the woman. McGee watched silently, debating her words. Maybe he had been wrong and there really was something between Gibbs and Tony. He didn't want to believe in magical hocus-pocus, but there was a quality about Madam Maison that struck him as real and honest and for some unknown reason he was inclined to trust her.

Unfortunately, if what she was saying was true, his friends were in for a struggle he doubted either one of them was prepared to face.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs jerked awake, startled by the hand that pushed against his chest.

"Please, Zeke, don't…..I'll be good…..I'm sorry….." Tony shoved at him again, eyes firmly closed, his face sweaty and lined with distress. "Please don't make me…..it hurts….I don't want to….." Tony squirmed and wriggled away, and Gibbs was afraid he would fall off the edge of the bed and into the floor.

"Hey, DiNozzo, stop before you hurt yourself." He placed his hand on Tony's arm, and the incoherent man practically screamed and flailed in the opposite direction; Gibbs had to lunge and throw his body across Tony's to keep him from going over the edge.

To Gibbs' disbelief Tony started crying, batting his fists against Gibbs' chest. "Don't touch me…you're not allowed to touch me….I'll tell," he sobbed, pulling in deep shaky breaths. "I'll tell my father…..please stop." Gibbs grabbed Tony's wrists just below the cuffs, and held him tightly trying to calm him down.

"Tony, wake up now," he ordered, giving the struggling man an easy shake. Tony's eyes remained closed, but he ceased moving and slumped forward in Gibbs' grasp, his sobs turning into small gasps. "Damnit, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, tugging Tony up against him. Tony's eyes finally opened a tiny sliver, and he looked around without much recognition of his surroundings.

"Boss?" he whispered, slowly becoming aware that he was snuggled up against the silver-haired man's solid chest. "What's goin' on?"

Gibbs stroked the back of his neck. "You were having a nightmare. What was it about?" He could tell the drugs and lethargy continued to have a strong hold on his agent, and it probably wasn't fair to push for information while he was in this condition, but Gibbs couldn't forget what Rick had said on the ride up here. If something had happened to Tony as a child, he needed to know.

"Dreamin' 'bout Zeke," he slurred. "Didn' wan' him to hurt me 'nymore. Too little to make 'im stop."

"Who was he, Tony? Who was Zeke?"

DiNozzo's head lolled on his shoulder. "Boogeyman….always gets bad li'l boys." Tony's voice trailed off and he became a dead weight on Gibbs' chest; the lead agent held him, trying to process what had just been said. When Tony didn't wake again, Gibbs lowered him back to the bed and covered him up.

Feeling frustrated and restless, Gibbs stood and paced around the room. Whoever this Zeke was, Gibbs would find out and add him to the hit list of people he was going to have to hunt down and take out. The number of people who had hurt DiNozzo continued to grow longer and longer; it amazed him that Tony was so resilient as to have become the strong-willed, decent man he was lucky enough to know.

Childhood abuse would explain a lot about Tony's personality, although the thought of it simultaneously broke his heart and made him sick. He wouldn't push Tony to tell him about it, but he still felt strongly that he needed to know as much as possible in order to figure out how to proceed with any kind of relationship with the younger man. If a relationship would even be possible after this experience was over; there was no way to predict Tony's reaction to what was happening. Ironic that after all these years he finally accepted his feelings for Tony, and they might not matter anyway.

Gibbs went to the armoire and opened it again, examining the contents inside. He studied the various tools of the Dominant/submissive trade, letting his fingers glide over the toys that in some circumstances would have been fun and enjoyable to use, but he doubted Tony would see them that way considering he would have no say in the matter.

There was no way around it. Getting out of here was going to take time, and once Tony was sufficiently recovered Gibbs was going to have to prove his reputation as a trainer until they found a way to escape. At least he could take solace in the fact that it would be him taking care of Tony and no one else, he'd see to that. He had years of experience as a Dom and he knew what to do, how to handle a sub, especially this sub. Regardless, it was going to take all his willpower to do what he had to with DiNozzo considering his agent's vulnerable condition. Sitting back down on the bed, Gibbs picked up Tony's lax fingers and held them. Tony had been placing complete and unquestioned faith in him for years, and now that faith was going to be put to the ultimate test.

He only hoped that when they eventually returned to the real world Tony didn't hate him as much as all the other bastards who'd hurt him in his life.

If he did, Gibbs didn't think he could blame him.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long to post this. Life is crazy. Thank you for the reviews of the last chapter; I know I didn't get to reply to everyone, but they were all read and appreciated :-)**_

_**This chapter is explicit slash and BDSM. If you are offended by these topics, please do not read this story.**_

Chapter 11

Steve stalked from one side of Rick's office to the other, shaking his head in frustration. "This is your operation, Rick, I get that, but I don't see how you can place so much faith in a man that we know next to nothing about."

Rick leaned back in his leather chair and let his hand drop down to rub the fur between the ears of a large black dog. The animal pressed up into the touch. A second dog's head perked up, waiting in anticipation for his own opportunity for affection. Rick scratched the animal's neck. "Most of the people here are individuals I took a chance on, you included. I checked into Leroy's background and he has good recommendations and a clean record. We need someone like him; he's calm, calculating – sometimes that's what an uncooperative sub requires."

Steve stopped pacing. "Ok, I admit that I lost my cool with this guy, but that doesn't mean you can't trust me. We've been doing this a long time; I thought that was worth something."

The ponytailed man steepled his fingers, considering the best choice of words to mollify his partner. "This kid knows how to push your buttons, Steve. He got to me, too; I never should have let him go so long without food and it's been years since I beat a slave that hard. Hell, between the two of us we could've killed our big ticket item." Steve moved to open his mouth again, but Rick cut him off. "We've already lost the profit off of two subs; Nakamura is willing to pay almost anything for DiNozzo, and we can't screw that up. It's time to take our egos out of it and see if someone else can get anywhere with him."

The muscular man placed his hands on the desk. "Fine, I understand your position. I have let DiNozzo get to me. But what if this new guy isn't what he claims to be? There's something about him I just can't trust, Rick."

The owner considered his friend's words before responding; they were letting a lot ride on someone unknown and it made sense to be cautious. "If things don't work out we'll deal with it, like we have before. Leroy Jackson won't leave this compound alive if there's anything at all suspicious about his behavior, and I'll let you see to that personally. Does that make you feel any better?" He tilted his head and waited. He considered himself a good judge of character, but for whatever reason didn't share Steve's dislike of the new man. He actually admired Leroy's coolly detached persona. That didn't change the fact that if it came down to it, he could have the former Marine killed if necessary, he just hoped it didn't come to that.

Steve cracked his knuckles, frustrated and unsure about the turn of events. "I won't risk it all, Rick. We've worked too hard to get where we are – I'll do whatever it takes to protect us. Even if I have to go against you to do it."

Rick nodded with understanding; they had both put everything into this enterprise and neither was willing to take a chance on losing it. In the end, though, Rick was in charge and he would make the final decisions. "I know you will, which is why I value your friendship above all else. We're still in this together, and Leroy's just a means to an end. We'll use him to train DiNozzo and then reevaluate his usefulness after the auction. I'm not looking to replace you, but its smart business to take advantage of every resource we can find. And right now, in my opinion Leroy Jackson is an asset."

Carter didn't look convinced. "I'm not taking my eyes off him, Rick. I know you think I'm jealous, but there's something about him I don't like." He shook his head, "I just need to be sure where we stand."

"We stand ready to make a small fortune on our latest slave. Agreed?" He let confidence seep into his voice, which he knew from experience Steve would respond to hearing. "Now let's go get some lunch."

Rick gave his dogs a final pat and left the room, not waiting for Steve to catch up. His partner would follow orders, as always. Without Leroy Jackson, DiNozzo would never be prepared in time for the auction and would very likely end up dead from a training session gone too far. No, Leroy was their best bet to see this through to the end with a nice tidy profit, and he wasn't going to risk that for anyone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony rested his head on his folded arms and watched Gibbs out of the corner of his eyes. The silver haired agent sat in the overstuffed lounge chair with his legs crossed, reading a week old newspaper and sipping from a cup of coffee. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans and an untucked white button down shirt; Tony thought he looked for all the world like a Dom should look – easy, confident, comfortable. It made something flutter in his stomach that he wasn't in any shape to deal with right now.

The way Gibbs had settled in was remarkable. He had easily convinced Josh to bring him coffee every hour from sun-up to sun-down, and had even gotten the kid to procure him some reading material in the way of used magazines and newspapers. Gibbs might be a social savant on some levels, but give him enough time and he could figure out a way to get what he wanted out of most people.

It had been three days since Tony woke up and found Gibbs hovering over top of him, and the man hadn't left his side for a moment since then. The first day had been pretty bad, from what Tony could remember of it between being exhausted, half starved, beaten, and doped up on morphine. He vaguely recalled talking a lot, reciting lines from old movies, and (he hoped this was possibly a dream) crying onto Gibbs' shoulder. Large doses of medication always wreaked havoc with his system, so he doubted that his boss found his behavior all that unusual. Through it all Gibbs just held him, petted his hair, and whispered soothing words of comfort. Tony wasn't complaining, but looking back on it he couldn't understand where this kinder, gentler version of his "B is for bastard" boss had come from. If the rest of this crazy place wasn't enough to have him rattled, Gibbs' transformation took the cake.

Not that he didn't still behave like Gibbs with everyone else. He had heard the former gunnery sergeant letting Rick have it about the state of his health, observed the boss go toe-to-toe with Steve about how to treat a slave, and been witness to the crazy doctor nearly pissing himself when Gibbs shoved his pinky back and nearly broke it after the man touched Tony a little too intimately for comfort. He'd been on the receiving end himself when Gibbs insisted he eat every damn crumb on his plate and forced him to drink so much water he thought he might be able to float back to civilization.

In between, Gibbs had massaged Tony's sore muscles, rubbed ointment on his damaged skin, and monitored his urine output like a well-trained nurse. It was totally and completely disconcerting to Tony, who was much more used to being left to his own devices than to have someone completely devote themselves to taking care of him.

Gibbs folded his paper and sat it on the table. "Bored?" he asked, catching Tony's eyes.

"What do you think?" DiNozzo responded, wincing as he shifted onto his side. "No television, CD's, computer, not even a cell phone. I've counted the cracks in the ceiling a dozen times. Don't tell me you aren't bored, too – you're probably going through basement withdrawal as we speak."

Gibbs chuckled and stood up, stretching his arms over his head to work out the kinks in his back. He fished in his pocket and took out a small key. "Would you like me to take those cuffs off so you can shower? I don't think you're in any danger of falling over anymore."

"Really? Hell yeah," he agreed, sitting up with a small grimace. Most of the pain was gone, but a bit lingered in his ribs and lower back where the spectacular bruise created by Steve's boot had changed from black to a pea green, yellow, and purple mosaic. Fortunately, his pee was no longer pink and his head was only aching marginally compared to a few days ago, which allowed him to move around bettter as long as he took everything slow and easy. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be anyway. "How'd you get the key?" he asked, holding out his wrists so Gibbs could release the tiny padlocks. He hadn't quite adjusted to being buck naked in front of his boss, but until today he had felt so miserable clothes weren't very important.

"Rick gave it to me. I told him I'd need to get you cleaned up before we make our grand re-entrance into society tomorrow."

Tony paled a little and turned somber. "About that," he said, biting his lip nervously. "What's gonna happen now?"

"We'll talk after your shower," Gibbs answered, moving to the collar now that the other cuffs were removed. Tony stretched out his neck to allow for better access. He rubbed his skin where the leather had chafed it slightly raw. Gibbs heaved an irritated sigh at the newfound injury, brushing DiNozzo's fingers away to check the damage himself. "Morons," he muttered.

Tony grinned. "I have to admit I didn't hold still very well so some of this is possibly self-inflicted."

"None of this is right, Tony," Gibbs said seriously, his blue gaze solemn. "You should never be hurt like this. Ever. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, Boss, I get it," Tony replied, trying to squirm away from Gibbs' intensity, but the older man grabbed his forearms and held him still. Tony didn't want to spend any time on introspection, afraid that if he let his guard slip for just a second everything would tumble down on him. In the past few weeks he'd been pushed to his mental and physical edge and forced to face memories he didn't want to acknowledge. He had to keep it all at arm's length if he had any hope of surviving this ordeal.

"Sometimes I wonder if you do," Gibbs added, giving him such a pointed stare that Tony felt torn open and turned inside out. He tried not to wilt under the scrutiny, holding firm until Gibb let go and turned away. "Hurry up, we have a lot to figure out before tomorrow."

"On it, Boss," Tony answered jauntily, trying to alleviate some of the tension he felt building. He wasn't sure he was prepared to discuss tomorrow, or face what having to leave the safety of this room would involve. It made him queasy just thinking about it. Unfortunately, he knew Gibbs wouldn't let him avoid the topic forever. Gibbs was definitely a rip the band-aid off fast kind of guy.

"And don't turn the water on too hot," Gibbs called from the other room. "You're skin's still tender."

Tony rolled his eyes ruefully and contemplated if Gibbs ever stopped giving orders; the need to be in control seemed written in the former marine's DNA.

Of course, Gibbs was right as usual and the water did aggravate his back and butt, so he made sure to turn the hot down and the cold up.

He made quick work of it, hoping to keep Gibbs in as good a mood as possible. He toweled off and dried the water from his hair – he decided to wrap the towel around his waist since the lack of clothes was leaving him off kilter around Gibbs. He wasn't ashamed of his body, but somehow his nakedness felt like a disadvantage when Gibbs was always fully clothed. He trotted from the bathroom and hesitated; Gibbs was staring at him with a hard, predatory glare that he didn't recognize and made him very uncomfortable after the thoughtfulness Gibbs had shown him the past few days.

"What?" he asked, unable to hold his tongue.

Gibbs sat back down in the lounge chair. "Come over here," he directed, pointing at the spot between his spread legs.

"Ooookaay…" Tony replied hesitantly and came to stand in front of his boss, scratching near the scab on his head that was itching non stop now that Gibbs had removed the bandage.

"Lose the towel." There was no compromise in his boss' eyes.

"Excuse me?" Tony stopped mid scratch. He had to have heard the statement wrong….why would Gibbs care if he wasn't traipsing around in only his birthday suit?

"You heard me, DiNozzo, lose the towel. Don't make me wait."

Tony's mouth fell open and he stood there unmoving, not sure what was happening. "Hey!" he yelled when Gibbs reached out and grabbed the towel, pulling it off his hips. Tony reacted by trying to get the towel back, scowling when Gibbs tossed it behind him. Tony turned to go pick it up, but Gibbs put out a leg and blocked his movement.

"I didn't give you permission to do that," he growled, and Tony froze in his tracks.

"What game are you playing at, Gibbs?" Tony hurled at him angrily.

"No games, Tony. I'm trying to save your life. Now stand up straight, hands at your sides." The tone Gibbs used brooked no argument, and it sent a shiver down Tony's spine. He wasn't sure whether to obey or punch Gibbs in the nose. The battle must have been written all over his face.

"Work it out now, Tony, because tomorrow you won't get a chance to decide."

Suddenly, DiNozzo understood. In the morning they would have to go out in front of Rick, Steve and everyone else. Gibbs would have to be a Dom and he would have to be…..a slave. The realization knocked the wind from his gut and he suddenly felt weak and shaky.

"Shit," he whispered.

"Hey," Gibbs' voice softened somewhat, and he took Tony's hand and tugged him over to stand in front of him again. "Can you handle this?"

Tony considered the question. "I….I don't know." He clenched his fists tightly and released them several times trying to relieve his growing anxiety.

Gibbs gave him a half smile. "Think about it like an undercover op. Play the role and get through it. You'll be fine."

"You don't seem to have any problems with your position in all of this," Tony groused.

"Yeah, well, I'm fairly comfortable being a Dom. I just don't want you to freak out."

"I'm not going to freak out!" Tony protested, and Gibbs lifted an eyebrow. "Much," he added. "I just need to get my head around this, that's all." He let his eyes drift to the floor and tried not to think about his cock dangling in front of him for all the world – including Gibbs – to see. "So do you have any plan up your sleeve to get us out of here?"

Gibbs shifted in his chair. "I have a couple of ideas. I'm gonna try to get in their communications room and see if I can send a message to McGee. I don't know how easy that will be, or even if an opportunity will present itself anytime soon. If that doesn't work, we'll have to wait until they get a new shipment of supplies delivered and try to break out while they're dealing with the disruption. I'll scout the situation more tomorrow and get a better grip on what we're up against."

Tony digested the less than inspiring information. "But nothing any time soon?"

The older man held his gaze. "Not for a week or two would be my guess. We have to be patient and plan this out. I didn't spend all this time trying to find you just to get us both killed."

"So that leaves us dealing with this…predicament for a while," Tony summarized.

"Looks that way, DiNozzo." Gibbs didn't sugarcoat the problem. "I won't lie to you; I'm going to have to treat you like you're in training. I'll do everything possible to take things easy, and your injuries aren't totally healed so that should help provide an excuse. But," he paused so his words could sink in, "you can imagine what we're going to have to do to make this look real."

Elaboration wasn't necessary; Tony took a deep breath to settle his racing heartbeat. "Alright," he said. "I trust you, Boss. Do what you have to and I'll play along." Saying the words was easy; he was certain living up to them would be a lot more difficult.

Gibbs smiled; a large grin that brightened his face and warmed Tony's heart even while he had to use all the willpower he could muster not to hyperventilate at the thought of what the next few weeks would involve. A thought crossed his mind. "But I don't see why I have to be naked while there's no one around to see me except you."

Gibbs made a tight face. "Someone could walk in here at any time, DiNozzo. I don't plan on giving them anything to be suspicious about."

"Oh," Tony said, silently agreeing that it made sense. He should've known Gibbs didn't want to simply stare at his naked body, although for some reason that idea made him feel a little funny inside.

"Hold out your hands, I need to put these cuffs back on."

Tony obliged, watching quietly while Gibbs pulled the buckles and slid the straps in place. "Too tight?" he asked.

"No, they're fine." Tony's voice was low and breathy, which took him off guard. His heart was beating faster, and he felt somewhat light-headed. The feeling only grew when Gibbs bent down and wrapped the emerald green cuffs around his ankles. When his boss placed the leather collar on his neck, Tony involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath. Gibbs gave him an inscrutable look, but didn't comment. Without a word he added the tiny locks, each snap sending a jolt through Tony's overly sensitive body.

Gibbs ran a hand down his arm, almost like he was gentling a skittish animal. Something in the atmosphere of the room shifted, and Tony couldn't breathe properly. "Go lay down on the bed, Tony, on your stomach." Gibbs ordered, soft but firm, ignoring Tony's agitated reaction.

"Ok, Boss," DiNozzo agreed, not sure if he should speak or not, or how far he should take the slave role while they were alone. The situation had suddenly gotten very, very weird and he couldn't decide how to react.

He carefully settled down on the mattress, mindful of the dull pain that radiated from his ribs and torso, not wanting to aggravate the healing injuries. He waited, unsure of what Gibbs intended to do next. There was the sound of a drawer opening, and something shuffled, before the stealthy sniper sank down on the bed near his feet. Tony nearly jumped in the air at the movement.

"Shhh," Gibbs said, and laid a calloused hand on his thigh. Tony thought the heat of Gibbs' hand might burn through his skin.

"What," the field agent croaked, and cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

Gibbs spread Tony's legs and knelt between them, leaning forward, gently kneading the muscles in his shoulders.

"Are you feeling any pain?"

Tony considered lying, but the moment was so charged he didn't think he could come close to pretending. "A little."

Gibbs continued to work on his flesh, his strong fingers stroking and plying their way along his joints and tendons, forcing him to forget about anything else except the delicious feeling that was spreading through his body. Not an inch of him was spared, every spot given attention and consideration from the nimble fingers. The fact it was Gibbs doing this was enough to make his brain want to explode from overload.

"Boss…." He huffed, not sure what else he wanted to say.

"Quiet, Tony. You have to get used to letting me touch you. I'm going to be doing a lot of it in the future."

Somehow hearing Gibbs say this sent tiny sparks of pleasure shooting around Tony's rattled nervous system. He'd never considered Gibbs' sexual orientation too closely, assuming that as a Dom he maintained an interest in both genders. Of course, there was the minor detail of the way Gibbs had acted in the elevator right before he'd been kidnapped, and the conversation the silver haired man had insisted they have. Was it possible there was something more going on than an undercover operation designed to save their lives?

And is that what Tony wanted? Now didn't seem like the best time to figure it out.

Gibbs' hands found the flesh on his lower back and Tony's breath hitched. He wondered where the older man intended to stop, but it appeared he had no intention of quitting. He let his large hands firmly grip the muscles in Tony's ass, pulling and tugging at the skin relentlessly.

"Boss.." Tony groaned, more insistently when he realized his dick was now half hard. The entire ordeal was embarrassing enough; for Gibbs to see him erect would be humiliating. He had to get the older agent to stop, now. "Gibbs!"

"Hush, Tony. Get your head in your role. You belong to me now, and you have to let me do what I want. Trust me, I won't do anything you can't take."

"But Gibbs," Tony nearly whined, desperate to get his boss to listen, He twisted his head around to look over his shoulder. He glimpsed Gibbs staring back resolutely, not an inch of indecisiveness in his shiny blue eyes.

"Relax, DiNozzo." Tony gasped when he felt a finger trail down the crack of his ass and settle at his hole, tracing around the opening. He was sure his eyes were wide and disbelieving; there was the trace of a smirk around Gibbs' mouth. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

'Uh…..n…no," Tony stammered out, close to losing it. What was Gibbs planning to do? He heard Gibbs moving, and then something cold and wet was sliding around on his ass, and on Gibbs' finger and then…..oh, oh, oh, that finger slipped ever so gently into his hole.

"Boss!"

A firm hand rested on his back as he tried to get up. "Calm down. Do you trust me, Tony?"

The only response Tony gave was heaving, gasping breaths. "Anthony, do you trust me?" Gibbs repeated. His finger slid in a little further, and Tony thought he might die on the spot.

"I….I trust you, Boss." He took a deep breath. "I trust you." He let his head fall down on the pillow and tried not to think too hard about what was happening. A part of him wanted to tell Gibbs to stop, but another part wanted to find out what Gibbs was going to do next.

Another finger slid in, and they began moving, stretching Tony out. He'd been with men, but it had always been fast and dirty, never like this – and those encounters had been a long time ago. Of course, the most important fact was that none of them had been Gibbs.

"Why are you doing this?" Tony sputtered, barely able to string together a coherent sentence. He could never in his wildest dreams have imagined something like this moment between him and his boss and he felt helpless to control it.

"If I have to put something inside you, Tony, I want you to be prepared for it. I won't hurt you." Tony jerked when one of Gibbs' fingers brushed his prostate, and he was blazingly, instantly hard. He moaned despite his best intention not to make any sound.

Suddenly the fingers were gone, and Tony groaned at the emptiness. Just as quickly, a cold, rubbery implement nudged at his opening. He tensed, but Gibbs rubbed his back gently. "Relax," Gibbs repeated. With a strong movement, the rubber device slipped inside him, burning its way past the tight ring of muscle in his asshole. Tony instinctively tried to move away, but Gibbs' hand held him firmly in place. Another push had the butt plug seated and Tony gasping.

"You ok?" Gibbs asked after a few seconds had passed.

"No…yes…I don't know, my boss just shoved a plug in my ass. How am I supposed to be?" He had never experienced anything like this in his life and his brain had turned to jelly.

Gibbs chuckled. "You can wear it tonight so we'll be ready for anything we have to do in the morning. This might be uncomfortable but it's a good way for them to see me training you, Tony. I won't beat you anymore if I can avoid it."

Tony moved, the plug shifting inside him. He was still rock hard, and couldn't figure out what to do about it that wouldn't be extremely awkward for them both. This was so beyond normal he was at a loss for an appropriate reaction.

"Have you ever worn a plug before?" Gibbs asked, casually arranging himself on the bed next to Tony like there was nothing unusual about the situation.

Tony stood up, wondering how long it would take to get used to the fullness. "No…uh, never. Guess you're never too old to learn something new, huh?" he deflected, eyes darting everywhere except Gibbs' face. He couldn't look at the other man without turning ten shades of red.

Gibbs watched him closely. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.

Tony licked his lips and considered the question; it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it might be. "It feels….odd." He shifted again. "I can't quit thinking about it." To his horror, Tony realized Gibbs was staring at his erection. Gibbs walked over and reached out a hand to cup Tony's neck before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead that left Tony reeling, unable to decide if he wanted something more.

"Get some sleep, DiNozzo," Gibbs suggested, moving toward the bathroom to get ready for the night. As he walked away, he added, "And don't touch that cock. Slaves don't get to masturbate without permission."

Tony sputtered, beyond shocked. "I'm not really a slave!" he stated, sitting down on the butt plug and crying out in surprise. He lay back on the bed, tossed a pillow on his dick, and threw a hand over his eyes. He didn't move when Gibbs climbed back in the bed, the mattress dipping down beside him. His mind swirled with confusion; this was being forced on him, but at the same time a part of him wanted it, craved it more than anything he'd ever desired in his life. He didn't know what to do.

Gibbs didn't say anything; instead he curled on his side and rested a hand on Tony's shoulder. Eventually DiNozzo couldn't fight sleep anymore, and he let his body sink down into the comfort of the blankets and the security of having the silver-haired man near him. Drifting on the edge of slumber, he finally opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs, whose own eyes were still open, clear and watching him.

"Before I was taken, what did you want to talk to me about?" he broached carefully.

Gibbs let a finger drift down his cheek. "We'll get back to that, Tony. When this is all over."

Tony blinked slowly, firming his resolve. He could sense the bond between the two of them shifting, changing, like sand beneath his feet. "I need to know," he pressed.

Gibbs traced his lips and Tony shivered; he felt more exposed than he ever had before. Gibbs, however, wasn't giving in. "Not now, not while this place is…..a part of it. Later, I promise."

Tony didn't say anything else, but let the surreal moment spin outward; he could barely believe he was lying naked in bed with his boss, his dick hard and his mouth dry, waiting for a day that held both fear and anticipation. All he could do was play the part, be the dutiful submissive slave, and count on Gibbs to have his six in every way possible. Gibbs had never failed to take care of him, and he couldn't fathom his boss would let him down now.

Trying to ignore his worries, he instead focused on the rough hand that stroked his hair, and fell asleep to the soft rhythmic breathing of the man beside him.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Fornell unlocked the door and stepped inside the quiet house, shutting it behind him. He tucked the key back in his pocket, glad that he'd accepted it years ago when Gibbs had said he needed someone to keep an eye on things if he ever got into any trouble.

They had been playing cards, drinking beer, and watching a football game. Diane had kicked him out of the house, and to his dismay Gibbs had offered to let him stay over until he found an apartment. Needless to say he'd been shocked at the considerate proposal, but he'd had nowhere else to go and to be honest curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to figure out what Gibbs was up to.

Turned out, Gibbs had a "been there, done that" attitude, and felt a lot of sympathy for his plight. Diane truly was a piece of work, and it had only been a matter of time until the marriage fell apart; never let it be said the NCIS agent didn't warn him. It only took a few days for him and Gibbs to find a lot of common ground in their mutual disgust of the woman they had both been unfortunate enough to marry. By the weekend, they'd also discovered they had mutual interests of other kinds, namely they were both Doms unable to find compatible subs and settle down. Diane had been the worst kind of sub; she was always trying to top from the bottom and never truly gave up any control, leading to constant bickering and squabbling. Neither man ever wanted to deal with that again.

Fornell trotted down the basement stairs and found the bottle of bourbon Gibbs always kept on hand, and in the spirit of friendship he blew the dust out of a mason jar and poured a drink, sipping it slowly. They'd had some good times after those first awkward days, either hanging around the house shooting the bull or trolling some of the specialty bars that catered to their tastes. Neither of them was looking for a long-term commitment, so it was all in light-hearted fun. Even after Fornell found his own place, they continued to get together frequently to unwind after long days of work.

The FBI agent leaned against the counter. _Until DiNozzo._ Fornell could've head slapped himself that he hadn't picked up on it sooner. After the swarthy Italian joined Gibbs' team, the nights out had tapered off then ended completely. A trained investigator should have figured it out immediately, but it just hadn't occurred to him that Gibbs would have an interest in an overgrown frat boy like DiNozzo. He supposed that from the beginning Gibbs had seen something in the man that it had taken him a long time to notice. DiNozzo wasn't just about practical jokes and flirting with the opposite sex, he was a good agent, smart, creative, and above all, loyal. They were all qualities Gibbs would consider attractive, and wrapped up in a fairly pleasing package. Yeah, he should've seen the signals a hell of a lot sooner than he did.

The fact both Gibbs and DiNozzo seemed pretty clueless about their chemistry probably played a part in his oversight, and Fornell decided to use that fact to justify his obtuseness. It really wasn't fair to expect him to see something neither of the parties involved could see for themselves.

He tilted the glass back and drank the last of the burning liquid. There was no doubt in his mind Gibbs would do anything in his power to find his boy, and sacrifice whatever he had to in order to bring him home, whether they ever acknowledged their feelings for one another or not. A small metal box caught his eye, and Fornell picked it up, lifting open the lid to reveal several faded and battered pictures, the edges worn from being handled so much. He immediately realized he was looking at Shannon and Kelly, their happy smiles reminders of what his friend had lost. Their joyful faces were bittersweet in their innocence. No one could blame Gibbs for being afraid to truly love again, but if anyone could warm the ice that had settled in the NCIS agent's heart, it was DiNozzo. If only he could find the two men, maybe Gibbs would get a chance at that kind of happiness again. Nobody had ever accused him of being a hopeless romantic, but in this case he would be willing to help in any way possible to get them together. He shut the lid and carefully replaced the box on the shelf.

Fornell looked around the basement at the stacks of wood, equipment, and half-finished projects, wondering why he had been drawn here to begin with. He guessed this place offered comfort to Gibbs when he needed it, and he hoped to find some solace for himself, too. Taking off his coat, he poured some more bourbon and picked up a piece of sand paper, leaning over a section of the boat.

He worked on the wood, smoothing out the rough edges, letting the motion settle his mind while he tried to find an angle he hadn't considered before that might lead him to a break in the case. There was no way he would be satisfied with anything less than finding the bastards responsible for his friend's disappearance and making them pay.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

By the time Tony woke up he was alone in the bed; he sat up, irrationally afraid that he'd been dreaming and Gibbs was gone. The thought was enough to make his gut clench into a knot. He moved a little too swiftly causing his tender ribs to protest, but before he could register the pain the full sensation in his ass took precedence over everything else. He shifted, bewildered, and blinked around to find Gibbs, fully dressed, leaning against the back of the sofa, staring at him. He heaved a sigh of relief at the sight.

"I wondered when you were going to wake up." Gibbs' feet were crossed at the ankle and he didn't move. Tony wondered how long Gibbs had been watching him sleep, not sure if he felt comforted or…something else.

DiNozzo rubbed his eyes and scratched his head, letting his heart settle back into place now that he'd found the lead agent. "What time is it?" he asked, trying not to ogle Gibbs' new attire. His boss was wearing a pair of black jeans that were tighter than normal for him and a black button down shirt that was unbuttoned at the top to show a smattering of silvery chest hair. There was no undershirt to be found. For some reason the casual, more flattering clothing made Tony nervous. It made Gibbs look younger, and reminded Tony why the man had been able to snag so many wives.

Gibbs decided not to answer his question directly. "It's time to get out there and start gathering intel about this place. Besides, if we don't show up for breakfast it's going to look suspicious."

Tony scooted to the side of the bed, trying to ignore the plug that was providing a continual distraction by nudging at his prostate. He wanted to squirm and squeal, but controlled both reactions. "I guess I'll go get dressed…. Oh wait," he added dramatically, taking a look at himself, "I don't have any clothes."

Gibbs snickered. "Sorry, Tony, but I can't do anything about that. For now, I'm a trainer and you're a slave so we're just going to have to get used to your naked ass." He approached the bed. "Roll over and let me get that plug out."

Tony did as requested, eager to have the device removed. "So how exactly will this work today?" he asked cautiously, sucking in a breath when Gibbs twisted the plug and pulled on it. He wiggled, and Gibbs rested a heavy hand on his hip.

"Don't move."

DiNozzo tried to hold still, but it was difficult with Gibbs standing so close behind him, and the foreign feeling of the rubber in his hole. He would have never been willing to let anyone else do something like this to him; he supposed this proved how easily the older man could assert his dominance. The team would have a field day if they could get a glimpse of his submissive posture.

Gibbs tugged again and the plug popped out, leaving him suddenly open and stretched.

"I mean," Tony continued, letting his eyes fall half closed again as he adjusted to the new feeling. "I know what they did to me when you weren't here – is that what you'll do, too?"

There was a concerned edge to his tone. Gibbs stroked Tony's skin, his hands making firm circles on his ass. "It'll be different, but you'll have to follow a few rules."

"What rules?"

Gibbs could see no alternative but to tell him, as specifically as possible. It was for both their benefits. "No speaking unless asked a direct question by a Dom; stay by my side at all times, follow any command I give without question – even if you don't understand or if it seems out of line - kneel next to me whenever I stop. And don't forget to only address me as boss or sir, nothing else."

Tony twisted around to look at Gibbs. "Is that all? Do you want me to lick your boots, too?"

Gibbs narrowed his gaze, unsure of where that statement had come from. "That's a pretty specific question, Tony. Care to explain?"

Tony hesitated, his jaw working back and forth. "It's what Rick wanted me to do, in order to earn the right to eat. I couldn't humiliate myself that way – I'd rather die." Tony dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to understand why he felt so ashamed about something he didn't even do.

The older man lifted his chin. "I'll do my best not to ask anything of you that I think is too much for you to handle. But I can't make any promises Tony; this is going to be hard, and first and foremost we have to maintain our covers. I'll probably have to make you do things you aren't going to like."

DiNozzo huffed air out through his nose. "I know that; it doesn't make it any easier."

Gibbs stroked his arm. "I get that. You're one of the best undercover agents I've ever met, and I'm sure you can do this. Now go clean up and we'll get going."

Tony tightened his lips and went in the bathroom without saying anything else.

He splashed water in his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to gain control over his emotions. Going through the routine of brushing his teeth, pissing, and combing his hair, he kept reminding himself that this was Gibbs, his boss, and that should make everything easier because the lead agent wasn't going to let anyone hurt him. But the idea of Gibbs doing things to him, being his Dom – even a pretend one – made him more scared and nervous than a virgin getting ready for the prom. How would this change their relationship? Would they ever be able to see each other the same way again? How could he look Gibbs in the eye knowing he had let the man….spank him? Touch his dick? Maybe even fuck him? Hell, he'd already let Gibbs stick a plug in his ass. It was only going to get more intense as the day unfolded. Tony sat down on the toilet lid and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked from the other room. "Get it in gear; I'm not going to wait all day!"

_Alright, Tony. This man has risked everything to help you, the least you can do is try to make it all go as easy as possible. Pull yourself together and go to work; the faster we come up with a plan, the faster we get out of here._

A few minutes later he reemerged, walking purposefully over to Gibbs and planting himself in front of the man.

"Fine," he said with grim determination. "Let's get this over with. What do I need to do now?"

Gibbs sighed inwardly. This might be harder than he had thought. Believing Tony was innately a submissive had made him think the activities wouldn't be so difficult for his subordinate, but the expression on Tony's face – which resembled a man heading down the hallway to his own execution – convinced him otherwise.

Regardless, they had to go through with it; there was no turning back now. "Lean over the back of the couch," he said evenly.

Tony followed the directive; Gibbs stepped behind and kicked his legs farther apart. DiNozzo shot him a glare, and Gibbs turned his face so it was facing the cushions.

"Haven't they been teaching you positions?" he asked.

Tony grunted. "Trying," he answered sullenly, his voice muffled by the fabric. "I'm not picking up on things too well, that's why I had to have my own special tutor."

"Well you're going to have start learning now." Gibbs stroked down Tony's back to his butt. He figured DiNozzo would still be stretched from last night, so there wouldn't need to be any preparation beyond lubricant. He poured some of the gel onto his field agent's pink hole.

"Hey! Cold!" Tony yelled and flinched, trying to bat Gibbs' hands away.

"You also need to learn to be quiet," Gibbs pointed out, grabbing Tony's wrists and shoving them down to his sides. "Now, don't move and I mean it."

The older man carefully inspected the slightly pink hole, making sure the plug hadn't done any damage. He wasn't certain what they would be expected to do today, and he wanted to be prepared for anything – he wouldn't have Tony hurt any more. Inserting a finger, he determined there was no tearing to worry about, even though the inexperienced man was still nearly as tight as the night before. He added another finger and moved them around, trying to stretch the opening wider. The feeling of Tony's body clenching around him sent a shiver racing to his groin, but he forced it to be ignored. DiNozzo had frozen in place, not moving at all while Gibbs' fingers scissored inside him, clearly uncomfortable with the intimate touch. Tony groaned and sucked in air between his teeth, but didn't try to stop the invasion. When Gibbs was done and removed his fingers, he rubbed the back of Tony's hair affectionately. "Good job," he said.

Tony stood stiffly, jaw clenched. "Don't I get a treat?" he asked sarcastically. He was hard again, and it was humiliating. His body was responding to the stimulation without giving him any say in the matter.

Gibbs just pursed his lips. "Not yet." He walked over to the dresser and picked something up. Tony saw it and his eyes widened.

"Oh, come on, Gibbs. Do we really need that? Give me a break, ok?" The fact he had been more intimate with Gibbs in the past twenty-four hours than with any girlfriend in the last year had caused him to break out in a cold sweat and he didn't need any further embarrassment. His mind was still reeling from the reality of what had already occurred and that his "training" was only beginning. Gibbs, of course, didn't concede an inch.

Without discussion the silver-haired man reached out and snapped the end of the leash onto Tony's collar, letting the end dangle down and hit his furry brown chest. "Yep, we do need this. Hands behind your back."

Tony eyed him warily and didn't move. Gibbs snapped his fingers impatiently. "Come on, DiNozzo, we're already late." Tony slowly obeyed and Gibbs quickly grabbed his hands and hooked the cuffs together.

"Now wait a minute…." Tony began. Gibbs cut him off.

"Stop questioning me, DiNozzo, and get into the role. You are a slave and you have to be treated that way or none of this is going to work. We might as well just walk out that door and announce who we are. Now are you ready to do this or not?"

Taking a deep breath, Tony steeled himself. "Ok. I get it, Boss. I'm ok."

Gibbs waited a few seconds before nodding. "Good. Now follow my lead, and stay two steps behind. And no talking!" He picked up the leash and led Tony to the door.

Tony forced himself to walk across the threshold; he had a feeling this was going to be one of the longest days of his life and nothing about his relationship with Gibbs would ever be the same again.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Notes: **Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm glad you're getting into the development of Tony and Gibbs relationship. It might be taking a crazy path, but that's the heart of the story._

_**Warning!** Intense, explicit situations in this chapter. BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash. If you are offended by these topics, don't read this story._

_My apologies for the double posting last chapter – FFN has been glitchy, and many people couldn't access the posting. I had to delete and repost. Hopefully that won't happen again._

_I look forward to reading your comments!_

**Chapter 12**

When they entered the dining area, everyone stopped and turned to stare. Even some of the other submissives glanced furtively over at the two men standing just inside the doorway. Rick burst into a pleasant grin, while Steve scowled and dropped his fork with a clang, unhappily glaring at his rival and the contrite slave waiting meekly behind him.

"Leroy! How good of you to join us; please have a seat at our table," Rick greeted enthusiastically, earning another angry eyed gaze from Steve who stabbed at his steak with a knife.

"Thanks," Gibbs grumbled, not sharing in the excitement but doing his best to play along. He strode forward, the leash tightening, and Tony had to jump to keep up or he would have been pulled from his feet. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do; all the other slaves were seated in the floor at the low table across the room, but Gibbs wasn't headed in that direction. He moved steadily toward the larger table where the Doms sat. Tony tried to quell his nerves and simply trust the boss knew what he was doing.

When Gibbs arrived at an empty seat, Tony stopped, nearly bumping into him. Gibbs glared unpleasantly. "Kneel," he ordered, pointing at a spot in the floor next to his chair. Tony hesitated, his inner demons not willing to be commanded so easily. Gibbs took a step closer and lowered his voice. "Kneel," he repeated icily.

Tony took a cleansing breath and reminded himself this was just a charade. Determined to follow through with his part of the act, he knelt down as carefully as possible with his hands cuffed behind him; the maneuver took a lot of balance, but he finally succeeded. Instead of being praised, Gibbs merely kicked his legs apart to reveal his genitals and pushed his head forward so he was looking at the floor. Tony gritted his teeth and managed to remain silent despite the degrading pose.

"Well that's an improvement," Rick commented dryly. "Don't you think, Steve?" Tony couldn't tell for sure just by listening, but he thought Rick might be goading his trainer.

"We'll see how long it lasts. I'm betting the little princess screws up before the day is over," Steve challenged confidently.

"If he does, he'll take his punishment and learn from it," Gibbs interjected. "Where's the coffee?"

The conversation drifted to more mundane subjects, and Tony tuned most of it out, staring resolutely at a spot on the floor. He'd almost fallen asleep when a foot nudged his thigh. "Look up."

Tony turned his face toward Gibbs, who was holding out a piece of toast. "Open your mouth."

DiNozzo didn't immediately respond. Gibbs was going to feed him with his hand? For some reason the gesture unnerved him – although after the mini finger-fucking his boss had provided this morning, nothing should really bother him any more where the former marine was concerned. Tony stared at Gibbs' fingers and wondered if those were the same ones that had been inside him, before giving a mental head shake and trying to refocus.

Gibbs waved the food under his nose. "Come on, boy. I know you're hungry, and this is the only way you're eating from now on. So get to it."

Tony's stomach grumbled noisily, and he decided that although awkward, this wasn't nearly as humiliating as kissing Rick's boots. So he parted his lips slightly. Gibbs stuck the toast and the tips of his fingers into Tony's mouth, and the field agent chewed the morsel slowly. Gibbs went back to listening to the conversation around him. A minute or so later a piece of bacon was offered, and Tony let that go in his mouth, too. The process continued for a while, until Gibbs picked up a glass of water and held that out. Gibbs tilted it up and Tony took a few swallows, before Gibbs removed the glass and grabbed a napkin, wiping his chin. Then the procedures were repeated, Tony eating from Gibbs' fingers like a puppy. It was an odd combination of embarrassing and endearing, and Tony couldn't quite wrap his head around the experience. He felt completely dependent on Gibbs, but at the same time felt completely sure that he would be taken care of. He noticed his dick was semi-hard, so it didn't mind what was happening, and that left Tony even more disconcerted.

All in all, though, things were ok – so far, so good. Maybe he could get through this after all.

The men at the table stood, and Gibbs tugged at Tony's leash. The younger man squashed a glare and gingerly rose to his feet, uncoordinated without the use of his hands to steady himself. Gibbs didn't offer to help. "So what's next on the agenda?" Gibbs asked as the other slaves were ushered from the room by several guards.

"Next is exercise time. Come on, I'll show you to the gym." Gibbs walked alongside Rick and Tony trailed behind, trying not to feel ridiculous attached to the leash carried by his boss, his cock bobbing in front of him, and his arms restrained behind him. He felt vulnerable, exposed, excited, stupid, and so many other things it was impossible to quantify them all. He groaned low in his throat to express his frustration; Gibbs glanced over his shoulder and scowled disapprovingly.

Rick laughed. "I'm not sure what you did while you guys were holed up the last few days, but it seems to have made an impact. Your boy definitely seems a lot better behaved."

"We're still working on it," Gibbs answered as they entered a room filled with exercise equipment. Several armed guards were placed throughout the area in order to ensure compliance from the unrestrained slaves. Moving to a large bin, Rick fished out a pair of tight, red, spandex shorts.

"He can wear these. We don't want any accidents."

Gibbs took the shorts and cocked a smirky smile. Tony narrowed his eyes while Gibbs bent over. "Step in," he demanded, waiting for Tony to put his feet in the shorts, which were then pulled over his legs, Gibbs paused to stare meaningfully at Tony's partial hard-on. DiNozzo blushed, causing Gibbs to chuckle and pull the shorts over his ass, which he then patted indulgently. The younger man felt totally thrown off his equilibrium by Gibbs' behavior. Next Rick held out a pair of sneakers, which Gibbs also helped Tony put on, lacing them up for him.

Tony was then led over to a treadmill, where Gibbs unhooked his hands. The Dom adjusted the settings and whacked Tony on the rear to get him moving. "Gotta keep that ass looking peachy," he drawled, causing Tony to close his eyes and shake his head. Gibbs seemed to be enjoying his role a little too much for DiNozzo's taste.

He was left to walk, while Gibbs joined Rick who was watching the dozen or so slaves currently using various pieces of exercise equipment. The two Doms talked and laughed, and it made Tony incredibly angry to see them so comfortable and at ease; Gibbs with his arms folded over his chest and Rick gesturing while telling some story.

Light glinted off a silver bracelet dangling from the former psychiatrist's wrist, and his shirt was open to reveal a silver chain around his neck. A diamond ring adorned his pinky and he wore a larger jeweled ring on the thumb of his opposite hand. His snug pants were made of supple black leather. The fact that this man was making a fortune off kidnapping and selling innocent victims who had no desire to participate in their kinky sex trade sent shards of rage through Tony's veins and he wanted to punch something – Rick's face would do nicely, but Gibbs' was coming in a close second. He realized his boss was only doing what he had to in order to maintain their cover, but did he have to be so damn smug about it?  
>Tony jabbed at the controls on the treadmill, turning it up so he could break into a run. Immediately Gibbs and Rick stopped talking, and the silver-haired man marched over to his side.<p>

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

"I wanted to run," Tony responded. "Is that a problem? I thought we were here to exercise."

Gibbs' mouth pinched so little lines formed around his lips.

"I guess you forgot your role for a minute, boy. If I want you to run, I'll tell you. But since you made that decision yourself, you can just keep on running until I say you've had enough." He glanced at his watch. "If you touch that control panel one more time I'll have you wear mitts for the next week. And don't even think about stopping."

His voice was a fierce growl, and Tony wasn't sure who was talking to him – his boss or some crazy Dom. Gibbs walked back to Rick, his face somber. He was taking being undercover to an entirely unnecessary level.

Tony continued to run – and run – and run. He glanced at Gibbs occasionally, who seemed to have no intention of putting an end to this. He passed the twenty minute mark and started to feel an ache in his side and his breath grew short. His injuries weren't completely healed, the ribs giving him the most residual trouble, and it occurred to him that he couldn't keep this up much longer. What was Gibbs doing? What kind of point was he trying to prove? All the other slaves were now gone, and only Tony remained, consumed by the sound of his feet slapping on the treadmill belt and his harsh breathing. He was gasping for air and his legs felt like jelly; it was only a matter of time until he crashed face first onto the rapidly moving belt. He wobbled, and nearly lost his balance, grabbing the sides of the treadmill as he struggled to keep his feet.

Suddenly Gibbs was there, turning down the machine until Tony was walking, and then shutting it off entirely. Tony leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, his stomach churning and his lungs burning.

"Here." Gibbs thrust a water bottle at him, and Tony took a few swigs, waiting for his heart to stop hammering in his chest. He straightened up and experienced a bout of vertigo; Gibbs grabbed his arm. "Sit." Tony gratefully plopped down on his bottom, convinced the next command from Gibbs would be for him to roll over.

After a few minutes his body started to calm down and his heart rate returned to a more normal level. He glanced up to find unreadable blue eyes staring down at him.

"You ok?" Gibbs asked.

"Fine," Tony replied harshly. "What was that about?"  
>"Proving I'm a Dom," Gibbs replied without further explanation, pulling Tony up by the arm and leading him to a door on the other side of the room that opened to a bathroom and shower facility. "Take off those damn shorts and clean up." Tony barely caught the towel Gibbs threw at him. By the short words and clipped tone, it was apparent Gibbs was highly pissed off, but Tony couldn't figure out why the incident was such a big deal.<p>

"You and Rick were awfully chummy over there while I was running my ass off," Tony commented, peeling the sweat-soaked shorts off his legs. At least his dick had chosen to stop vying for attention.

Gibbs' eyes blazed. "DiNozzo, get in the shower and not another word from you, understand?"

Tony seethed at the dismissal, but the hard glare from Gibbs made him think twice about continuing to bait the older man. He hadn't expected Gibbs to be quite this….dominating. It made his skin itch.

"Fine," he said petulantly and climbed in the shower. When he finished, Gibbs was waiting.

"Rick is showing me around the facility; you will come with us but not one sound out of you. Got it?" Gibbs maintained the pissy attitude, refastening the cuffs behind him. "You've already done enough today that I'm going to have to punish you for later."

"Got it," Tony allowed, still angry and belligerent; he couldn't stop from pulling at the cuffs. "What do you mean, punish me?"

"Just don't do anything else stupid," was the only answer Gibbs supplied before clipping on the leash and striding out the door.

He followed behind his "master", concentrating on not drawing attention to himself, figuring he was already too much in both a literal and figurative doghouse. Gibbs took his time exploring the compound, and Tony couldn't help but be impressed with the way the experienced agent asked pertinent questions and took in all the details of the camp that imprisoned them. Gibbs paid careful attention in the communications building, and Tony could almost see the gears in his boss' head turning as he surveyed the equipment and layout of the area.

Rick preened his way proudly through the tour, bragging about their security measures and ability to operate under the nose of the government without ever being caught. Even when the obnoxious man was touting all his accomplishments, Gibbs' face retained a placid mask of neutrality.

"You keep a tight grip on the operation," Gibbs observed, his blue eyes documenting everything in the room. Tony stood behind him, conducting his own careful observation. Gibbs' eyes found his and he looked expectant. For a second Tony didn't know what Gibbs wanted, and then he realized the silver-haired man expected him to kneel. Tony gave a put upon sigh and once again sank to his knees, not surprised when Gibbs' hand tilted his head down so he was looking at his own lap.

"Absolutely," Rick concurred. "Movement in and out of the camp is strictly controlled. There is no cell phone service, so we don't have to worry about anyone communicating unless they do it out of here. We have phones, internet, and surveillance equipment operating in this location. The only way to call out is with my permission and authorization. The perimeter and all buildings are monitored using cameras in various locations; guards are stationed in this room at all times. If anything is amiss, we'll know it almost immediately." He clapped a bearded man sitting amid a bank of screens on the back.

"What about people who leave? Surely some of the guards and other workers decide to quit after a time," Gibbs questioned. "Aren't you concerned they'll expose you?"

Rick smiled like a snake that had just eaten a rat. "We make sure everyone who leaves understands the repercussions of any information leaks. Steve is useful in dealing with people who need to be reminded of that fact. We've taken care of a few difficulties, and that's left a clear message for others that we mean business."

Gibbs managed to look impressed. "I guess you've covered all the bases."

"I've tried. So far we've stayed out of trouble and I intend to keep it that way. The profit is too good and to be honest, I enjoy the work. It's definitely better than going to a real job five days a week."

Gibbs moved closer to Tony and placed a hand on the back of his neck, stroking his hair gently. The muscles in Tony's back bunched up at the unexpected touch, but Gibbs kept stroking until the prickly sensation went away and was replaced by something warm that spread down his spine and into his groin. Tony watched his dick get hard again and bit his lip. He really didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"This job does have its benefits," Gibbs commented wryly, gaining another chuckle from Rick.

"Let's have a quick lunch and then you can show us how you handle a training session. Based on the results I've seen so far, it must be pretty impressive."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's neck when his agent tensed at those words. It wasn't unexpected, but Tony didn't how he was going to deal with being trained by Gibbs, even if it was just for show.

He tried to ignore the growing anxiety that built throughout the midday meal, almost oblivious to the fact Gibbs was feeding him again. He moved on autopilot, only focused on what could possibly be in store for him in the training room. By the time Gibbs pulled on his leash again he was a bundle of nerves.

Soon enough, they were at the door of the training room and it was time to go inside. Tony jumped when Gibbs rubbed the small of his back. "Try to relax," Gibbs whispered in his ear; "I'm going to take care of you."

As they stepped inside, Tony attempted to ignore the overwhelming desire to make an ill-advised dash back into the hallway.

The equipment took on an entirely different meaning now that Gibbs was here to train him with it. He felt his chest tighten and his heart pound. All of the beams, buckles, chains, and padded leather cushions were intimidating under the best of circumstances; he couldn't even picture his boss being the one to force him onto one of these devices.

Rick prowled the room and stopped by a strange contraption that made Tony shudder from head to toe. He'd steadfastly refused to even look at it every time they entered the room previously. It had a place for someone to kneel on all fours with buckles to hold them in place over a padded bar. A device that held a long, thick rubber dildo sat menacingly behind where the person would be secured; the height could be adjusted to fit the occupant who would not be able to move away from being impaled by the toy.

"You could always start with the fucking machine," Rick purred cruelly. "It might loosen him up some."

Tony's green eyes were wide with a slight hint of fear; they followed Gibbs as he explored the room, picking up various implements and looking inside drawers and cabinets. Surely Gibbs wouldn't go that far to impress these kooks? Eventually he came back to stand next to Tony.

"No, I don't think that's necessary," Gibbs finally answered, before adding wickedly. "Yet."

_What the hell? _Tony didn't have much time to process this new, slightly crazy version of Gibbs before the silver-haired man wrapped his hand in Tony's leash and reeled him in like a gasping carp. Tony's bare body was forced against Gibbs' muscled torso, his eyes nearly even with DiNozzo's, the blue depths searching deep inside him offering up something the younger man didn't know if he could accept, even here and now when had no choice. Gibbs leaned next to his ear, his moist breath warm on Tony's skin. "Trust me, Tony."

DiNozzo went completely rigid when Gibbs' lips descended on his earlobe, sucking the flesh and nipping along the sensitive shell. His boss continued gently biting down Tony's neck, moving along his jaw until, with crushing force, Gibbs captured Tony's mouth with his own.

It was every wet dream he'd ever had come to life. Gibbs' lips pressed into his as a hand curled in his hair holding him in place and pressing them together. Tony tasted coffee and mint right before Gibbs' tongue found its way inside, thoroughly exploring along teeth and gums. He forgot how to breathe, how to think, and could only stand there and feel as Gibbs kissed him fiercely, passionately, like he was the only person in the world that mattered. Electricity shot down his spine and his cock curved rock hard against his belly when Gibbs' sucked his lower lip before releasing his mouth and staring at his handiwork.

"Like that?" Gibbs asked, leaning down farther to gently bite the skin at the juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder, teeth pressing harder and tongue lapping roughly until he drew away satisfied with the mark he'd made. Tony groaned helplessly, his eyes half-closed as he struggled to keep from rutting against Gibbs' thigh like an animal in heat. "Good boy," Gibbs praised, and Tony's eyes flicked wide, reality returning with harsh intensity.

_It's just a game. None of this is real._

Tony barely protested when he was suddenly propelled toward a bench and pushed over it, his ass in the air, and Gibbs kicked his legs apart. Gibbs rested a calloused hand in the middle of his back as he used his other hand to reach for a few of the items he'd picked up on his journey around the training room. Cold, wet, gel hit his crack, and Tony yelped, his overloaded brain struggling to digest what was going on. Gibbs' finger entered him again, working its way into his hole without preamble. Tony nearly choked, the idea of everyone in this room watching making him sick. It was nearly impossible to process that one minute he was being kissed like a cherished lover and the next tossed around like a common whore.

Tony tried to push up, but Gibbs held him down with unyielding force. The Dom added another finger and a strangled sound escaped Tony's throat; he closed his eyes and wished he could disappear, trying to hold still while Gibbs opened him up with military precision.

A part of him thought it felt awfully good, but he cut off that line of thinking. This was wrong in so many ways. It wasn't private, or intimate, or really even consensual even if he had daydreamed about something like it in the past.

Gibbs' fingers retreated and cold rubber took their place, slipping inside him and Tony flinched, once again bucking upward. Gibbs' sticky fingers splayed across his back. "Easy, boy," he said, his voice containing a husky gravel that Tony had never heard before. He shivered.

"Boss," DiNozzo whispered without thinking. "Please." He didn't know what he was asking for…..for Gibbs to stop, or continue, or to simply take him away from here. Gibbs tapped his ass with the flat palm of his hand.

"Quiet; I didn't give you permission to speak."

Tony blinked. If he hadn't known better he would've thought Gibbs actually was a trainer. He tried to calm down and relax, reminding himself this was what they had to do, and it was better Gibbs than a total stranger. Unfortunately his internal pep talk didn't erase the anger blossoming in the pit of his stomach.

When Gibbs leaned over his back and the smell of rubber filled his nostrils, Tony nearly snapped his head into the other man's nose. It was only the highest level of self-control he could muster that prevented it. "Open your mouth," Gibbs ordered, pushing a red ball against his lips.

Tony sputtered and the ball was shoved inside, lodging behind his teeth. In a second he could feel straps around his head fastening the gag in place. He made a half desperate, half enraged sound deep in his throat and shook his head, letting daggers fly from his wide eyed gaze.

_I trusted you._

Gibbs ignored his unspoken plea. "Let's not take a chance you'll say something you'll regret," Gibbs commented, tugging Tony to his feet and leading him to a corner.

Without concern for bruised knees, Tony was shoved onto the floor. Gibbs unfastened his cuffs, and DiNozzo moved the stiff muscles trying to loosen out the cramps that had set in. "Time for a change in position," Gibbs stated, gathering Tony's hands and lifting them above his head, efficiently attaching the wrist cuffs to a chain dangling from the ceiling.

The older man separated Tony's knees and wrapped a hand around his half-hard dick, stroking it into a semi-erection.

Tony felt like his heart was going to pound straight out of his chest. He caught Gibbs' eye, and shook his head no, trying to wordlessly beg for some kind of mercy. For a fleeting instant he saw the blue ice soften, only to be replaced by frozen hardness.

"You need to learn to keep this at attention." There was no emotion in Gibbs' voice. Tony worked to breathe through his nose when Gibbs reached in his pocket and pulled out a rubber cock ring. Tony made a useless effort to scoot away from Gibbs, but he couldn't really move. There was nothing he could do when the ring was slipped down onto the base of his dick, and Gibbs continued to pump him until he was fully engorged. He couldn't stop a moan, which earned a sad smile from his boss and a thumb sweeping across his cheek.

"Now watch. Try to learn something." Gibbs stood up and walked away, leaving Tony sweating, shaking, and stewing in a cloud of confusion.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance finished reading the report on his desk and closed the file. He tapped his fingers on the manila folder, mentally reviewing the information that had been collected on the possible human trafficking ring. The investigation indicated indentured individuals were being sold at clandestine auctions held at various locations around the country. The slaves were then shipped around the globe, few if any, remaining in the United States. Whoever was running this show wasn't stupid.

Several prominent and obscenely wealthy men were rumored to frequent the auctions; Nakamura's name came up frequently.

Currently the case was stalled; rumor was all the investigators had to go on since there was no evidence to support the theories and outrageous stories told by a few people who claimed to have been associated with the operation. No one could reveal where the auctions were occurring or where the slaves were being trained. Without that type of solid evidence, there was nothing that could be done.

Vance flipped the file open again, sifting through the pictures of the missing men. He picked up a photo of DiNozzo; he had to admit the agent met the profile completely. The Director wanted to think that the eccentric man had simply up and left, but in his gut – and yes, whether Gibbs would want to believe it or not, he had his own gut – that didn't sit right. DiNozzo would never just leave without a word; he'd fought too hard to get back to the team he considered his family.

Could he in good conscience ignore the possibility that an agent on his team had more than likely been kidnapped and forced into slavery? He doubted DiNozzo would survive long in a situation that required total obedience. Hell, he didn't think DiNozzo could even be quiet for longer than a five minute stretch. _Unless he was forced to be._ There was a high probability the next body they found would belong to the Senior Field Agent.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed Gibbs' number, frowning when it went straight to voice mail like it had for the past few days. Where had the damn man gone off to? He realized his mistake at suspending the Lead Agent; at least if Gibbs had been in the office he could have been monitored. Now there was no telling what crazy shit the former gunnery sergeant was stirring up.

Vance stood and walked over to the window, staring out while considering his options. If it had just been DiNozzo missing, it might have been safe to cut their losses and forget about him. But Gibbs…there was a good chance Gibbs would show up in a few weeks with Nakamura and everyone else involved cuffed and ready for processing. He couldn't say exactly what was going on between Gibbs and DiNozzo, but he doubted there was any scenario in which Gibbs didn't find his longest serving agent.

He'd overheard Abby telling Ziva and McGee she thought the two men were attracted to each other. He had a hard time believing that; what could Gibbs possibly see in the annoying, loud-mouthed Italian? Vance shook his head to erase the mental image that popped into his brain. He really didn't want to go there.

Regardless, this was now about containment, because a rogue Gibbs was a very dangerous commodity. Nothing he might do would surprise the Director.

He moved back to his desk and picked up his landline. "Get me the Director of the FBI," he barked, and settled in his leather chair to wait for the return call. He'd played the game long enough to know when it was time to make a move.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony stopped trying to figure out how long he'd been watching the activity in the room, his body swaying a little as he drifted in an uncomfortable haze. His jaw ached from being held open by the gag, his arms ached from being stretched over his head, his quads ached from supporting his body weight, and his cock ached from being hard without any possibility of release.

He could feel Gibbs watching him and he glared, hoping the older man could feel his burning anger scorching out of his eyes. The only time Gibbs had approached him over the last few hours was when Tony had tried to stop watching, earning him a sharp headslap and a command to pay attention. That didn't mean he wasn't the focus of Gibbs' interest; there wasn't a moment the silver-haired man let his steely gaze turn to something else. None of the other trainers attempted to work with him; it was clear who he belonged to even if it was only for now. Even Steve kept a safe distance, pretending Tony didn't exist. It was like Gibbs' ownership was branded on him, and he supposed based on the throbbing bruise on his neck, in a way it was.

That knowledge made him feel safe, secure, cared for, and completely turned on despite everything else that was happening. And it confused the hell out of him. He didn't want to feel this way. He stoked his anger by following Gibbs' command and watching the others, ignoring the way his cock throbbed every time those blue eyes assessed his every movement, every sound, every breath.

The men he was observing seemed mostly detached from what was being done to them, and he couldn't tell if they got any enjoyment out of the scenes or not. He saw men whipped until they came without ever being touched, men giving head while being spanked, men tortured with floggers, butt plugs, dildos, and canes. The worst were the ones attached to the fucking machine, which he decided was his worst possible nightmare. Their bodies moved in rhythm with the unyielding pounding from the device, their mouths hanging open and their eyes rolled back in their heads until they came in shuddering, uncontrollable waves of agony or ecstasy, he didn't know which. Most of the slaves were also fondled, kissed, and petted, but it didn't make up for the fact they weren't allowed to speak or really even participate in what was happening beyond the fact they were receptacles for sexual pleasure.

Kate would've probably thought this was a fantasy of Tony's; sex play with no strings attached. But it wasn't. Not even close. Anger flared hot across his veins again and he shook with the inability to release it. He welcomed the feeling since it was something he could understand, unlike the fleeting glimpses of enjoyment that caught him by surprise and he shoved away with brief acknowledgment.

Somehow he was so lost in his own head he had missed Gibbs coming up behind him, and he jumped when his boss and tormentor whispered in his ear. "I'm going to untie you. Don't do anything reckless."

Once Tony's hands were released he was pulled to his feet, swaying as he regained his balance after being restrained so long. Gibbs wrapped a hand around his bicep and didn't let go as he prodded Tony toward the door.

"Are you joining us for dinner?" Rick asked, leering at Tony's body.

"No, I think I need to finish up with my boy in private. He has a few more lessons to learn tonight."

Tony glared and Gibbs tightened his grip.

"I can see that," Rick agreed. "He's still fighting his submission. Nakamura won't mind – he likes some fire in his slaves. But it won't hurt to tone it down some."

Gibbs just nodded in agreement.

"I'll send Josh with some food. Have a good night." He cupped Tony's balls and tugged, and DiNozzo jerked back instinctively. Gibbs held him in place until Rick finished fondling him. "You've got your work cut out for you Leroy."

"Damn right about that," Gibbs muttered and forced Tony out the door.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs didn't bother with the leash. Instead he held onto Tony the entire way back to their room, not loosening his bruising hold until they were safely inside and the door clicked shut behind them.

The walk had taken forever, or so it seemed, just like the time in the training room had moved like a slow march toward death. Seeing Tony trussed up like that, being the target of his agent's angry glares, had nearly done him in. He had struggled the entire session, torn between his Dominant side taking pleasure in the sight of his boy, and yes Tony was _his_ boy, and the knowledge that given the choice, Tony wouldn't have wanted any of this. A few weeks ago he had decided it was time to let Tony know how he felt, and try to finally put an end to all the frustration by pursuing _something_ with the younger man. But now, now that was impossible. Tony would never forgive him or understand that being a bastard was the only thing that was going to save them.

He hadn't taken off the gag, the cock ring, or removed the butt plug, so he knew Tony had to be uncomfortable on the walk back. When he had Tony in the center of the room, he carefully unsnapped the cock ring first, hearing Tony sigh when it came off. His dick stayed hard though, and the tension didn't leave his body.

He spun Tony around and shoved him over the soft leather couch, taking the end of the plug and easing it out of his agent's hole. When it was gone, Tony sighed again. Still, the tension remained; his shoulders tight and his muscles shaking.

Finally, Gibbs reached for the gag, releasing the buckles and taking it out of Tony's mouth. DiNozzo spit on the floor and made a face, apparently not happy with the taste of rubber. Gibbs let his fingers drift over Tony's cheek, hoping to soothe away some of the anger before it raged out of Tony unchecked.

Tony jerked his head away. "Don't touch me," he seethed. "Don't you fucking touch me."

Gibbs moved over and sat down in the chair, waiting to see what DiNozzo would do next. He crossed his legs and folded his hands, relying on the quiet calm honed over the years in combat situations. It didn't take long for the explosion to occur.

Tony closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his mouth. When he opened them, the hazel green eyes were nearly black with rage. "Take these off of me," he demanded, holding out his cuffed wrists. "I want them off now; I can't stand them anymore."

Gibbs shook his head. "I can't do that, Tony. Someone could come in here any time and I'd never be able to explain it. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize!" Tony yelled. "I don't want your damn apology! I want to go home!"

His hands clenched at his sides, and Gibbs could tell he was looking for an outlet, something to focus his anger on. He started pacing in small circles, running his hands through his hair leaving it in unkempt clumps.

"You….you…did the exact things to me they would have. How could you do that?" He strode around the boundaries of the room, stopping beside the table where a crystal pitcher and glasses sat. Gibbs noticed he was shaking so hard his shoulders quaked. He rested his hands on the edge of the wooden surface and let his head slump forward.

"I had no choice, Tony. In order to protect you I have to prove to them I'm a Dom, like them."

"You had no choice?" Tony screamed, his voice louder than Gibbs had ever heard it before. "You had no choice? I'm the one without a choice!" He picked up a glass and threw it against the wall where it shattered, raining clear pieces onto the tiled floor. He took his arm and swept the rest of the crystal off the table letting it crash loudly into a million shards.

Gibbs rushed forward, trying to stop him before one of the guards heard and came to investigate the noise. By the time he reached his out of control agent, Tony had already hefted the table itself and heaved it into the wall, watching it break and splinter into chunks. DiNozzo turned in search of something else to destroy.

The former marine wrapped his arms around the younger man and locked his hands in place, pinning Tony's arms to his sides.

"Let me go! I told you not to touch me!" He jerked from side to side, trying to dislodge Gibbs so he could continue to rampage. "Get your fucking hands off me!"

"Calm down!" Gibbs demanded. "You're going to have the whole damn camp in here!"

Tony continued to buck and squirm, his naked skin sweat slick and slippery. Gibbs refused to let go. "I'm not stopping until you get yourself under control," Gibbs warned.

"No! Don't tell me what to do!" Tony bent a little and rose up quickly, sending them both to the ground with a solid thud. Gibbs heard the breath leave Tony's body in a rush, and his agent stilled; he used the momentary pause to flip over and climb on top of Tony straddling him and grabbing his hands, holding them down by his head.

When Tony realized he was restrained, he fought again, thrusting his hips and trying to force his shoulders off the ground. Gibbs could see the wildness in his eyes and found it unsettling, but he rode out the storm, letting Tony thrash and flail until he wore himself out, eventually lying unmoving on the floor, panting harshly. The crazed look was replaced by a dull fog, and Gibbs wondered if Tony was even aware of where he was anymore.

"You with me, Tony?" he asked softly, hoping to get DiNozzo back to his normal self. "Are you ok?"

Tony blinked but didn't answer, and Gibbs thought he looked less like a federal agent and more like a lost little boy.

"If I let you go will you fight me again?"

Tony's mouth twitched and he gave his head a small shake from side to side.

Gibbs took him at his word and rolled off him, standing up and helping a shaky Tony stand, too. His agent had gone from an uncontrollable maniac to a completely silent statue; Gibbs grasped his hand and led him to the bed. The older man settled him under the covers, crawling in beside him.

Gibbs circled his arms around Tony's quivering shoulders, holding him closely. He tucked Tony's head under his chin, letting his lips settle near DiNozzo's ear. He whispered that everything would be alright, they would get home, and he would never tell a soul what had happened here.

The salty wetness on Tony's cheek was something neither man would need to mention tomorrow.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's **_**Notes**_**: **__This is a pretty long one; I hope you like where things start to go between Tony and Gibbs after the intensity of the last chapter. Let me know what you think!_

_**Warning! **Explicit BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash_

**Chapter 13**

Gibbs sat bolt upright, going immediately from asleep to awake, startled to awareness by unknown movement and sounds. It took a few seconds for his surroundings to register, another few seconds to ascertain there was no imminent danger, and then a few more seconds to realize what had broken through his exhaustion.

Tony was mumbling and squirming, his head rolling from side to side while he had a heated conversation with an unknown opponent.

"No….please no, I don't want you to do that," he begged. "I'm sorry if I was bad….I'll do better….just stop, ok?"

Gibbs bit his upper lip. He despised hearing Tony pleading like this; he must be reliving the events from earlier. It hurt to hear how much Tony had been traumatized by the experience.

He leaned toward the younger man, reaching out a hand to wake him, when the next words caused him to pause.

"Please, Zeke, please…..it hurts when you do that! Stop! No, don't…no!"

Tony was yelling, but not at him, at someone else. Gibbs froze in the dark when understanding hit him like a slap in the face. _Tony was yelling at someone else_. Rick had been right; Tony had been abused, a long time ago, when he was too young to understand the difference between coercion and submission. It made so much sense. All these years he had been fighting between his innate desire to submit to someone who cared about him, and the need to protect himself from being hurt by some animal who took all control away without any concern for his well-being. No wonder the boy was confused. Everything had been jumbled up before he had a chance to become a man and sort it out.

Damn. The knowledge of what Tony must have suffered all these years made his gut ache. Gibbs would hunt down this Zeke character and feed him his balls for lunch.

Another desperate plea caught his attention and he returned to Tony, who was shaking and twisting his hands in the sheet.

Gibbs pushed the damp hair off his forehead. "Tony," he said gently. "Tony, wake up you're having a nightmare." He accompanied the soft words with a gentle shake of the other man's arm.

Tony's eyes fluttered open, comprehension dawning slowly. "Gibbs? Wh….what? Where….." He propped up on an elbow and looked around, his eyes still guarded as if looking for an attacker.

"It's just me, remember?"

"Yeah….ok, yeah, just….just a dream," Tony mumbled before dropping back to the bed and closing his eyes.

Gibbs spooned up behind him again and pulled Tony's bare back against his own chest. DiNozzo didn't fight the closeness, but tried to burrow in deeper, letting his head rest in the crook of Gibbs' arm.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispered, his soft words almost lost in the darkness. "About earlier. I….I kind of lost it, I guess." He sighed heavily. "Everything seemed to catch up with me all at once."

"It's alright," Gibbs replied, dropping a gentle kiss on his hair. "It was a lot to deal with." He paused, hoping this was the right thing to do. "You want to tell me about your dream?"

Tony stiffened in his arms, and Gibbs kissed his temple. He wasn't sure how DiNozzo would respond to the gentle touches after what happened in the training room, but his gut told him Tony needed the affection. "You don't have to…..but you can; I'll listen."

For a long time Tony didn't respond, and Gibbs wondered if he'd fallen asleep. The soft, hesitant voice caught him off guard.

"It happened the summer I was eleven. My Dad got married again, and he left me at home with the Nanny." Tony continued the story in his quiet, smooth tenor, telling Gibbs about his Nanny, Rosie, leaving when her mother fell ill, and his father dumping him off on the handyman, Zeke, without even a second thought. He described how Zeke beat and assaulted him almost every day from the very beginning, terrorizing him in his own home. He told about being completely isolated since Zeke took out the phones, and he had no money or transportation. Zeke was his only means of survival and he had to do what he was told or there would be no food for days on end.

Gibbs held Tony with one hand and stroked his hair with the other, fearful of moving lest the cocoon that made Tony feel safe enough to talk would be broken. Quietly, suppressing a rage that wanted to consume him, he asked, "How did you get away?"

Tony swallowed and cleared his throat. "Zeke got drunk and tried….tried to rape me. But he couldn't get it up so he went nuts, hitting and kicking me until he passed out. I was hurt pretty bad, but I knew if I didn't get away he would kill me before my Dad finally came home from his honeymoon." Tony sighed deeply and Gibbs waited for him to continue. "I had found his stash of money so I took it; I had Rosie's address in Brooklyn and I left to go there. It was raining, and I could barely walk, but it didn't matter if I ended up dead in a ditch as long as he couldn't get his dirty hands on me again."

Gibbs turned Tony's head so he could make out his profile in the darkness. "You did good, Tony. I always knew you must have been a tough little kid."

Tony smiled wanly, and his eyes glittered. "A woman started talking to me at a gas station where I stopped to get warm. I must have looked pretty pathetic," he said absently, lost in the memory. "She offered to drive me the rest of the way; I think she was afraid I was going to end up passed out on the side of the road or something. She didn't leave my side until Rosie opened her door and let me in." Tony paused and shook his head. "I never even knew her name."

"What did Rosie do?"

A few tears escaped Tony's eyes and trailed slowly down his cheek, and Gibbs brushed them away with his thumb. "She took me to the hospital; I was a mess. Broken ribs, concussion, internal bleeding. I got a nasty infection that took weeks to clear up. My Dad came and I remember waking up to see him and he looked at me like he couldn't decide if he should smack me or throw up. He said we were never to speak of it again, so we didn't. He didn't mean for it to happen," Tony added a little defensively.

Gibbs growled his disagreement at that. He and Senior had a few things to work out about being a parent. "What happened to Zeke?"

"He disappeared. There was never any kind of investigation – my Dad knew enough people to cover it up. He didn't want it to get out that he'd left his son with a child molester."

Tony peered up at Gibbs, frowning. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. Zeke died over two years ago so you can't go all Lorena Bobbitt on him even if you want to."

Gibbs let out a huff of air through his nose. Maybe he'd dig up the body and desecrate the skeleton. "I can't believe your Dad didn't do anything."

Tony didn't answer, but shifted until he was lying against Gibbs again, and the older man went back to running fingers through his hair, surprised Tony didn't stop him. "It was a long time ago," DiNozzo finally said.

"Oh, Tony," Gibbs whispered. "There are some things we never leave behind."

Tony made a choking sound, staying silent.

Gibbs held him for the rest of the night, standing sentry against the nightmares, and waited for the dawn to come.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Abby stared down at her microscope and let out an uncharacteristic curse. "Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit," she repeated, pounding her fists on the table until everything was shaking and threatening to fall off. A vial tumbled toward the edge and a hand barely caught it before it hit the floor.

"You ok?" McGee asked, his face tight with worry and concern in his voice. He carefully placed the vial back on the table, awkwardly watching for some sign of her mental state.

Abby thinned her lips and threw herself onto the stool, laying her head on her folded arms. "I thought I might get a break this time, but it's nothing again. Nada, nil, nix, nyet, nothing," she mumbled, refusing to look at him. "Science is supposed to be the key to everything, but it hasn't gives us one solid lead yet."

"What were you working on?" he asked, checking his watch. "It's past one in the morning; you should be home in bed, or you know….in your coffin, or whatever."

She turned her head to glare at him. "And why are you still here, McNightOwl?"

McGee frowned even more, the mangling of his name not improving his mood. "I was….you know….looking over some stuff."

"You were trying to find a lead on Tony or Gibbs. Just admit it. The truth will set you free." She rested her head on arms but this time kept looking at him. McGee leaned against the table.

"You too?" he asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I reexamined all the evidence taken off the Marine's clothes but didn't come up with anything new. I was hoping to use some of that fluff to maybe narrow down a geographic area, but it's just common, everyday lining from a coat sold at Wal-Mart. It could've come from anywhere." She sounded just as dejected as she felt.'

"I can't find anything, either. Nakamura has some of the best people in the world cooking his books; nothing is out of place and whenever I trace any of his spending it's lost in a spiderweb of transactions and shell corporations. My eyes are starting to cross from looking at it." He drifted over to a shelf and picked up Bert.

"There has to be something we're overlooking, Tim. People don't just disappear off the face of the earth!" She sat up straight and tugged her pigtails in place with determination before wiping the black smudges from under her eyes. "I'm not giving up," she announced firmly; if she had to search the rest of her life she would never, ever quit since she knew neither Tony nor Gibbs would rest if it was her who had gone missing. McGee could write books about her longevity and fortitude in the face of adversity. She might have to take a leave of absence to devote herself to the search full time, but it didn't matter. Her entire life would be dedicated to bringing her friends home. She looked up confused when a farting noise interrupted her inner monologue.

McGee held the stuffed hippo and grinned slightly when he squeezed and it farted again. Abby giggled softly, taking the toy in her arms and squeezing it too. "I won't give up either, Abs," McGee promised. "But I'm also not going to let Gibbs and Tony kick my ass when they come back and you've run yourself ragged. Come on, I'm taking you home to get some rest. You haven't left this lab in days."

He snagged Bert, sat him back on the shelf and patted his head, then held out his hand to the Goth scientist. Abby stood there for a minute and considered refusing his offer. She had stayed up a lot longer than this with nothing more than hourly Caf-Pows to keep her going. But then again Gibbs had been around, and somehow he gave her strength. Without him….it wasn't the same. McGee cocked an eyebrow and wiggled his fingers, adding puppy dog eyes before she finally relented. "You're right. But I'm coming in at 0500. Don't try to stop me!" She glared at him menacingly.

'Wouldn't think of it," he agreed, his face a mask of innocence. "Considering it's so late, maybe I'll just crash on your sofa….."

Abby smiled wryly and took his arm while she picked up her black purse with pink trim and a bedazzled skull and crossbones. "Me casa you casa," she teased. "Besides, it's not like you haven't seen inside my coffin before anyway."

McGee blushed and Abby beamed, feeling a small sense of peace for the first time in a long time.

They would find Gibbs and Tony. She was sure of it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony peeled his dry, puffy eyes open, noticing that he was in bed alone. He groaned inwardly and rolled over on his back, the events from last night painfully fresh in his memory. He considered headslapping himself for his behavior; he'd acted worse than a pre-menstrual sixteen year old. First the hissy fit and then….he'd told Gibbs everything. His deepest, darkest secret never spoken out loud for nearly thirty years laid out in the open. Not even Wendy had known.

He couldn't explain what had come over him; being in this place had made it impossible to shake the past, to seal it away in a corner of his soul like he usually did. He'd been struggling with control issues ever since that horrific summer, and being in a position where he was faced with a similar lack of power every day had taken its toll. Gibbs, shit Gibbs had somehow wrapped those strong arms around him and made him feel safe enough to reveal the one event that had colored all the rest of his days with its black and blue aftermath.

Even though Tony thought he'd left it all in the past, it was no farther away than his own shadow. Always there, even when he couldn't see it. How a few months in his life could have such a profound impact – it didn't seem fair that he couldn't escape from it.

Now, someone else knew. Not just someone, but Gibbs. He groaned again, fairly certain that he was going to have to talk about it some more, and he really didn't want to have that conversation. Then again, he really didn't want to face the day at all if it meant getting overwhelmed and pushed to the edge like yesterday. He didn't think he had it in him to deal with so much emotional turmoil two days in a row.

In his everyday life he took great care to make sure he didn't get put in physical or sexually vulnerable positions – even when he had the occasional one-off with a man he always maintained a level of equality. The imbalance of power, having his body used, it was almost too much to handle.

"No sense hiding," Gibbs drawled from the doorway of the bathroom just as he pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to not deal with it. "Might as well get up and get it over with."

"Did you ever think about writing a book?" Tony asked without removing the blanket from his face. "You could include all your rules and those neat little quotes of yours. The world needs more Gibbsisms."

"You haven't done so bad following my rules. Here." He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled the blanket down, and handed Tony a plate with a bagel on it. "You need to eat something."

Tony pushed himself up against the headboard and poked at the toasted bread. "You got any jelly?" he asked with a pout.

Gibbs walked over to the table, picked up a tiny packet and tossed it at DiNozzo, who caught it easily. He peered at the label. "This is cream cheese."

Gibbs just shrugged and picked up his coffee, indicating Tony could take the condiment or leave it. Tony took it, dipping the bagel in the cream cheese when a utensil didn't come flying across the room. The older man resumed his seat on the bed while Tony ate. After a few bites, his stomach began to protest, churning violently as he thought more about what he'd revealed last night and imagining what might be in store for today. Eventually he sat the remaining bagel back on his plate deciding that eating anymore would be a really bad idea.

"I'm not all that hungry," he told the watchful Lead Agent who cataloged his every move.

"So I see," Gibbs agreed, taking the plate and sitting it on the table. "That's ok for now but I'll make sure you eat more at lunch."

Tony swallowed, thinking about the intimacy of Gibbs' hand feeding him his meals. "You know I can feed myself. Been doing it for years."

"Doesn't mean you can't let someone else do things for you sometimes, DiNozzo." Gibbs leveled a challenging gaze at him.

Tony drew his legs up to his chest, unwilling to analyze his tendency to acquiesce to Gibbs. Last night he had wanted to punch the man's lights out and this morning – all he could think about was how Gibbs had held him while he struggled with his memories. No one had ever done anything like that before; the tenderness made the rest of yesterday seem like another bad dream. He found that forgiving Gibbs was easy, he had a harder time forgiving himself. Gibbs had risked his life to find Tony, and he deserved more than a temper tantrum as payment. Regardless, Tony hoped Gibbs wouldn't press him about what he'd shared the night before; he decided to face the issue and get it out of the way so he didn't worry about it all day. "You gonna make me talk about what I told you?"

Gibbs looked away for a moment, then turned his blue eyes back toward him, searching for something. "Is that the first time you talked about it?"

"Yeah," Tony answered, picking at a thread on the blanket. "I tried to forget it ever happened."

"Some things are impossible to forget. They stay with us, make us who we are whether we like it or not," Gibbs offered sagely.

"See." Tony grinned wistfully through his lashes. "Definitely one for the book."

Gibbs drained his coffee. "Stop deflecting, DiNozzo. You've been under a lot of pressure here, especially considering what happened to you."

Tony licked his lips nervously. As usual, Gibbs was absolutely right; that didn't make it any easier. And there was no way to predict what kind of training session they'd have to come up with next in order to maintain the façade for Rick and his cohorts. "There's no guarantee I won't flip out again today. I mean, I'm glad it's you and not those guys, but…..it's still hard. Sometimes I can't control how angry it makes me no matter how much I try."

The older man placed a hand on the back of Tony's head and let it rest there; somehow the gesture made Tony feel grounded and less like he was going to fly out of his own skin. DiNozzo recalled all the chaste kisses Gibbs had given him the night before and the times he'd woken to find himself wrapped in safe, strong arms, able to drift back to sleep without worry. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his loins stir. He dropped his chin and wet his lips again. Some of this felt far too good, far too right, to comprehend.

Gibbs lifted Tony's chin and locked his blue gaze with Tony's green. "I want you to do something for me Tony. Today, regardless of what I ask, just focus on me and you. Nothing else. No one else. Everything I do is to bring you pleasure, not pain." He cupped Tony's neck again and brushed his jaw with his thumb. "I have to play the hardass Dom for them, but it doesn't mean I…" He paused, clearly not comfortable with putting so much into words.

Tony flashed back to the kiss they had shared in the training room, letting the fact Gibbs had actually _kissed_ him sink into his addled thoughts. How much of that had been for show and how much of it had been real? It had felt real enough. Gibbs had let his hand drift down between Tony's shoulder blades where he absently rubbed circles on Tony's skin. Somehow the touch felt charged, electric. "Back in DC; what were you going to tell me that night? I need to know…..I want to know," Tony pressed. The way Gibbs felt could change everything and he needed to hear it. If it was even close to what he suspected, it might help him stay in control during their time out in the compound.

Gibbs quirked a half-smile. "I was going to kiss you until you couldn't think straight and tell you I want to be your Dom."

The statement wasn't totally unexpected, but it was so to the point it still managed to shock Tony. He must have been staring because Gibbs chuckled self-consciously.

"You can close your mouth now."

Tony's jaw clacked shut. "I'm not exactly good sub material, Boss, even though everybody else thinks I am," Tony explained with a shake of his head. "You know what I'm like; I could never be what you want. Now you understand why." He broke eye contact and refused to look at Gibbs anymore; there was a level of consideration in Gibbs' expression that he didn't deserve. The last thing he wanted was Gibbs' pity.

"Yeah, DiNozzo I know what you're like." Gibbs leaned forward, hands on either side of Tony's body; Tony looked at him curiously, unwilling to back away when he entered DiNozzo's physical space. "And I still wanted to take you home and make you mine."

They were words that both scared Tony and made him shiver with excitement; a bruise remained on his neck where Gibbs had bitten him yesterday, identifying his territory. Tony couldn't deny that Gibbs' presence, strength, command, and sheer dominance, sent thrills through every nerve ending and took up residence in his groin. Having Gibbs so close to him, sleeping in the same bed with him; for the first time in forever he felt like he belonged somewhere, to someone. And he liked it.

"I'll try to do better today, Boss. I promise." He felt surprisingly contrite and eager to please, not angry and combative like before.

Gibbs pecked him on the temple. "Good. Now hit the shower; we don't have much time left."

Tony jumped to obey, getting back into the living room in time for Gibbs to leash him. The involuntary jerk of his cock was downright embarrassing. He really missed wearing clothes when Gibbs didn't hide his interest in Tony's erection. DiNozzo groaned once more.

"Do you mind not staring?" Tony asked testily. "Everything's on display and I can't do anything about it."

"It looks good," Gibbs replied. "You don't have a reason to be embarrassed."

Tony gaped as Gibbs took his wrists, pulling them behind him to snap them together. His dick bobbed again, swaying semi-erect in front of him. Tony looked down in dismay, wishing he could reroute the blood in his body by willpower alone.

Gibbs stepped back around and pulled him close, trapping Tony's dick between them and to his mortification it grew even harder. Gibbs smiled at the result. He nuzzled Tony's neck, lightly nipping his way up until he hovered over Tony's mouth. "I told you, Tony, today is about pleasure – I'm going to show you how it should be with a Dom and a sub. You've made all these assumptions based on misinformation and I intend to correct that. We've got to go through with this any way; might as well enjoy it."

His lips descended and caught Tony's; his tongue darting in as he forced their mouths together. Tony returned the kiss, letting his own tongue find its way inside Gibbs' parted lips, tilting his head as they melded into one. He forgot for a moment where he was and what was happening, escaping into the sensations of his skin against Gibbs' soft shirt and pants, the hand gripping the back of his head, the other hand wrapped around his waist to hold him up. His dick throbbed with his heartbeat as Gibbs' possessed him with his mouth and tongue. When the older man finally pulled away he left Tony panting, dazed and speechless.

Tony closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.

"Now that is a good look on you," Gibbs said, and Tony noticed the black chino's he was wearing were tented in the front. "Let's go make all the other boys jealous."

He opened the door and stepped out, tugging Tony's leash and DiNozzo had to follow whether he was ready to go or not. For the first time, the lack of control didn't bother him, it actually set his heart racing more. Maybe this was what it felt like to be a sub, he considered, walking behind Gibbs. He trusted the man taking the lead to protect him, take care of him, do whatever was possible to make everything easy and enjoyable for him. To know what he could take and what he couldn't. He relaxed some. Nothing really mattered right now except following Gibbs' lead, doing what Gibbs decided they should do.

Instead of fighting the feeling he went with it, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to belong to Gibbs, mind, body, and soul.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee stared at the phone in his hand and looked over at Ziva, who stared back with a curious expression.

"Well?" she asked, leaning forward. "Who was it?"

"Vance," he replied, placing the receiving back down on the phone. "He wants to see us in his office."

"Why?" Vance almost never wanted to speak to them in person so it was an unusual request. She stood. "Does he know something about Tony or Gibbs?"

McGee shook his head. "He didn't say, but I hope so." Waiting had become nearly unbearable. No one had heard from Gibbs in weeks, and Tony…..anything could have happened to him after so much time.

Ziva joined McGee going up the stairs. "So how was your night with Abby? She said you stayed over."

McGee stopped and looked at her disbelievingly. "She told you about that?"

"We are girlfriends, of course she told me. She said you were very comforting and she appreciated having someone who understands her so well." Ziva's brown eyes danced mischievously.

"Is that all she said?" McGee asked anxiously. He couldn't believe Abby would talk to Ziva about something so personal. He felt a little bit betrayed.

Ziva tilted her head. "Why? Was there more that she left out?"

"No….not really….I just wondered." He narrowed his eyes. "You're fishing, Ziva David! Well trust me, I'm not like Tony I never kiss and tell!" He continued up the stairs.

"So you kissed her. I knew it!" Ziva followed after him, smirking triumphantly.

"That's not what I meant!" McGee protested, feeling like he'd been trapped. It had only been a small kiss goodnight, but it was the closest they'd been since they had briefly dated years before. He felt slightly disturbed by using the situation with Tony and Gibbs to get close to the pretty Goth, but Abby needed him in the absence of her pseudo big brother and surrogate father. He was merely filling a void like any good friend would do.

Ziva strode past him smiling smugly. "Do not worry, Tim, your secret is safe with me."

McGee rolled his eyes and huffed, jogging to catch up as she made her way to the door of the Director's office.

His secretary glanced at them and nodded. "Director Vance is expecting you; go right inside."

They entered to find Vance and another man waiting for them.

"Agents David and McGee. Thank you for joining us. This is David Carlysle, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Please have a seat."

The MCRT members settled in the chairs indicated. Vance didn't smile as he continued.

"It has become imperative that the issue surrounding Agent DiNozzo and the other missing men be resolved as swiftly as possible, so we are entering a formal partnership with the FBI to expedite the investigation. As a result, we think we have a plan to lure out the individuals who are potentially operating the human slavery ring."

Director Carlysle took off his glasses and nodded. "Leon assures me the two of you will be able to play a pivotal role in assisting with our undercover operation."

"You want us to go undercover?" McGee asked, confused. Vance had done a one-eighty; just a few days ago he had argued Tony hadn't even been abducted. Tim met Ziva's eyes to see she appeared just as lost. "As who?"

Vance finally smiled, but it didn't have any warmth or comfort. "A beautiful Israeli heiress with money to waste and her less than fulfilling slave who she'd like to replace."

Ziva's eyes opened wider and McGee stared in stunned silence, neither knowing exactly what Vance could possibly be planning.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

They went to the breakfast room, like every other morning this week, and Tony barely hesitated when he knelt by Gibbs' knee. Now that he'd decided to let himself get into the role, to try and take Gibbs' advice and not worry so much about what he was doing, it felt rather peaceful to accept the position. Like it was his choice and he wasn't being forced to do it. Honestly, if it got Gibbs to kiss him like that again, he'd be willing to do just about anything. _Within reason._ Gibbs brushed his hand through Tony's hair, letting his fingers separate the strands, until he pulled Tony closer and settled DiNozzo's cheek against his thigh. Tony didn't fight, but took comfort in the feel of Gibbs' strong muscles, relishing the physical connection he craved but didn't experience very often.

He could hear the Doms talking around him, but most of it didn't register; he drifted, content to let Gibbs take care of dealing with the others.

Suddenly Gibbs stood, and he struggled to his feet, still unable to move easily with his hands bound. Gibbs steadied him with a palm on his back.

Steve folded his arms, tense and angry. "So the princess likes being your little pet, Leroy. What did you do, fuck him into submission?"

Tony stiffened, the peaceful feeling dissipating quickly. Before he had a chance to open his mouth and smart off to the arrogant bastard, a hand cupped his butt cheek and squeezed, completely distracting Tony from his building tirade. His eyes flicked to Gibbs, who squeezed again, and in no uncertain terms let it be known he should keep his mouth shut.

"Drop your eyes, boy," Gibbs stated coldly. Tony did it, but he had to make himself. Every instinct screamed for him to attack, lash out, defend himself. One of Gibbs' fingers slipped dangerously close to his crack, sliding inside and rubbing up and down. Tony froze and his mind went blank.

"I have my ways of gaining obedience," the blue-eyed man explained patiently, continuing to move his finger inside Tony's cheeks. "Attention, affection, discipline – those are what a real Dom uses to command submission; to deserve it." Tony could hear the challenge in Gibbs' voice and wondered how this would end up. His traitorous dick perked up again, bobbing against his stomach. Through his lashes he saw Steve glaring at his growing erection. He was grateful for Gibbs' presence, considering what Steve had already forced him to do. There was no telling what else the man had conjured in his depraved mind. And he thought head slaps focused his attention.

"I was hoping to train that tight virgin ass myself," Steve grinned lasciviously. "There's always hope Nakamura will share."

The finger stopped moving and Tony thought he might stop breathing. A strangled sound escaped his throat before he could stop it.

Rick laughed. "If Nakamura buys him, I can guarantee there won't be any sharing. That little Asian shit won't take his cock out of that tight ass long enough to let anyone else have a chance." The owner petted Tony's hair approvingly. "You ready for some exercise, boy? Work up a sweat for Leroy?"

Tony practically bit his tongue to keep from smarting off that he wasn't suddenly the recipient of a lobotomy. Gibbs spoke up before he had a chance to lose it.

"I have some other plans for his work out today – I thought we'd get close to nature, so to speak." Tony wanted to ask what Gibbs' meant, but he made himself stay quiet. Could Gibbs possibly be suggesting what it sounded like?

"Oh, you are interesting, Leroy. I'm sure your slave will enjoy whatever you've dreamed up for him to do. Just don't get too close to the fence; I'd hate to see our best trainer and prized sub not make it back."

"Your best trainer? Seriously?" Steve grumbled, eyes flashing angrily. "If you had let me fuck that slut I can damn well promise he'd be acting like my bitch now." He took a step toward Tony, but Gibbs blocked his path. Steve seemed to think the better of starting a fight and noisily stalked out of the dining room instead.

"I don't think he likes me much," Gibbs deadpanned.

"He doesn't like to be threatened, and right now your success with Tony makes him feel inadequate. I'll talk to him, get him to understand you aren't out to replace him. He'll calm down."

"I'm not so sure about that," Gibbs disagreed. "But if he doesn't, I won't let him take his anger out on an innocent slave. He'll have to deal with me."

"That's what makes you special, Leroy. You train slaves like they belong to you. I'll see you later in the training room." He turned to follow his partner.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

A few hours later Tony found himself carefully picking his way through trees and undergrowth, carefully avoiding briars and brambles.

"You do realize I look absolutely ridiculous, don't you?" he asked Gibbs, who was moving through the woods ahead of him. Gibbs paused and glanced over his shoulder at his second-in-command.

"I think you look adorable."

Tony gasped indignantly. "Are you making fun of me? Because I think you're making fun of me." He was once more dressed in the tight, red spandex shorts, running shoes and nothing else. "I could be an honorary member of the Village People," he groused to himself. "If I get sunburned I'm going to be really pissed!" he yelled at Gibbs.

The lead agent ignored Tony's mild tirade, carefully studying the expanse of fence in front of him.

"What exactly are we doing out here, anyway?" Tony asked, gingerly coming up behind him.

The silver-haired man walked further along the fence line, expecting DiNozzo to follow. "There's no way we're getting into that communications room; it's too heavily guarded. The only other option is to get out through this fence somehow."

"Oh," Tony stated, taking more time to study the metal fence that was topped with barbed wire. "So you didn't bring me out here to have sex?"

Gibbs laughed out loud. "Is that what you thought?"

"Well," Tony shifted from foot to foot, shrugging sheepishly. "That's what it sounded like you were implying."

Gibbs continued walking. "That's what I wanted them to think. I'm trying to find the best way out of here. Get your mind out of the gutter and help me."

They moved slowly, studying the perimeter, which based on the height of the fence, the barbed wire, and the electricity, seemed in Tony's eyes pretty damned impenetrable.

"Over there," Gibbs finally said, pointing. He jogged to a small mound of earth near the fence and Tony followed. "We can start from this high point, climb the fence, cut the barbed wire, and go over."

Tony scratched his head. "That's a good plan, Boss. Except for the fact we'll be electrocuted, and even if we survive we don't have any wire cutters."

"So we'll have to go over the fence when the electricity has been interrupted and we'll have to steal a pair of wire cutters. We're resourceful; I think we can handle that."

Tony made a face at the fence. "I'm glad you're an optimist, Boss. This reminds me of a porno I saw once,…"

Gibbs let him prattle on, not paying much attention but glad to have some of the old Tony personality back for a while. He was worried about the way Steve had been watching DiNozzo; something in the way the man's flat dead eyes raked over Tony's body had him concerned. He could see the lust there, the need for possession, and an underlying anger built upon his failure to dominate Tony. It would only be a matter of time before Steve would have to be put in his place where Tony was concerned; he only hoped Rick would back him up when the disagreement finally occurred.

"Hey!" Tony said loudly. "Are you paying any attention at all? I've been talking for ten minutes and you haven't heard a damn word I've said!"

Gibbs turned to face Tony, trying not to smile at the way he was packaged – the green cuffs, red shorts, and white tennis shoes, his brown hair in messy spikes, and the soft hair on his chest trailing down over his flat stomach toward his bulging groin. He could've been on the cover of an adult magazine; possibly the Christmas edition.

"My face is up here!" Tony demanded, noticing the way Gibbs' eyes were wandering.

"Just admiring the view," Gibbs stated, walking over to cup Tony's head before kissing him possessively. Just like this place was pushing Tony toward his submissive side, it was forcing every toppy instinct Gibbs possessed to the surface. Tony had always, on some level, belonged to him, and now it was consuming him completely.

Gibbs broke the kiss, noting how Tony's eyes had fallen half closed and stared back at him dreamily. The midday sun created a halo effect around the tips of his thick brown hair. It was no surprise Steve wanted him; Gibbs wasn't sure how he had resisted so long.

"I don't like the way Steve looks at you," he growled. "I can tell he wants to fuck you."

Tony's eyes snapped the rest of the way open and Gibbs found something in the green depths he hadn't seen before but probably should have suspected. "He won't try anything with you around," Tony said a little too quickly.

Gibbs hadn't moved his hand from the back of his agent's neck. He let his gaze bore into Tony's, giving him the stare that caused suspects to wilt into confession rather than endure it too long. He didn't like using it on Tony, since DiNozzo had more than enough experience reading his expressions, but he wouldn't accept anything less than the truth. "Did he do anything to you before I got here?" His voice was implacable, cold, unwavering.

Tony blinked but didn't answer immediately, and that was enough for Gibbs to know.

"What did he do?" Gibbs demanded, shaking Tony's head roughly, ignoring the fact DiNozzo appeared somewhat dazed. "Tell me," he repeated. It was disconcerting to feel the rush of anger rising in his veins, but he couldn't stop it. Someone else had touched his boy, and it was maddening.

Tony's eyes were wide and frightened in a way Gibbs hadn't seen before, the lightheartedness that had filtered into them all but gone in the face of Gibbs' sudden flare of temper. "It wasn't a big deal, I don't think…."

"I didn't ask you to think! Tell me what he did to you. Now!"

"He uh…..he fucked my mouth, that's all," Tony practically whispered, looking down and away. "Rick wouldn't let him do anything else." Tony shook his head, not looking back up. "I'm sorry, Boss."

Gibbs tilted his chin up, forcing Tony's skittish eyes to not look away again. He ran a finger over Tony's lips, _his lips_, before kissing him again, not breaking it off until Tony stopped resisting and melted into his body. This was what he had been afraid of all those years he had denied having any feelings or attraction for the younger man—the overwhelming sense of ownership that bordered on obsession if he didn't keep it in check. When they got out of this place DiNozzo would be lucky if Gibbs didn't lock him in a room and never let him leave again. No one touched what belonged to him. No one.

He realized he must have had a frightening expression on his face, because Tony was rock still against him and barely breathing, scanning his visage for some sign of the man he recognized. Gibbs let go of his neck, aware of the small, finger sized bruises he'd left behind from digging into the skin with so much force.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Tony, but I'm going to have to teach Steve a lesson before this is all over," he murmered, squeezing Tony's shoulder reassuringly, trying to release some of his anger. He'd keep it at a low boil until it was time to let it out, for now Tony needed not to blame himself. "You mind?"

."No, definitely not," Tony agreed easily, his voice betraying his uncertainty at whether or not Gibbs was serious. "I know you'll keep me safe." There was no uncertainty behind that statement, and Tony impulsively burrowed himself against Gibbs' neck, kissing gently at first, then nipping harder until he reached the sensitive area behind the older man's ear, trying hard to erase his angry mood.

It was the first time Tony had taken the initiative to touch him, and it was more than Gibbs could stand.

He'd held out for so long, denied his fantasies, denied his desires, and it was impossible to do with Tony finally making the first move.

Gibbs swept his foot to the side, taking Tony down onto a thick patch of grass with a soft whump. He straddled the startled man, gathering his wrists and pinning them to the ground by each side of his head. He leaned over, letting his own growing erection throb against Tony's. "Don't start something you don't intend to finish," he purred. He bit along Tony's jaw, down Tony's chest, until he found a soft nipple to suckle and tease to hardness. He moved to the other sensitive peak of flesh, giving it the same treatment. Tony moaned and squirmed, his cock pulsing rhythmically into Gibbs'.

"Boss….that's so….." Tony gasped and struggled for words.

"Can't think of anything to say, DiNozzo?" Gibbs taunted, taking one hand and sliding it through the soft chest curls and down Tony's abdomen where he carefully lifted the waistband of Tony's scandalously tight shorts, his fingers encircling the head of Tony's dick which was already wet with pre-cum. DiNozzo gave a sharp intake of breath.

Gibbs let his fingers fondle the sensitive head while leaning up to capture Tony's lips in another kiss. "No one else is going to touch you Tony, ever again. You belong to me now, you understand that?"

DiNozzo was arching into his hand, trying to create more friction. "Do you understand me?" he demanded, his lips still pressed against Tony's soft mouth.

"Yes, Boss, I do…..please…..I need….." Tony trailed off, and Gibbs suspected his young protégé didn't know what he needed.

But that's what Gibbs was there for. He let his palm get slick from pre-cum and wrapped it around Tony's hardness, stroking several times until DiNozzo shuddered uncontrollably, shouting his orgasm loud enough to startle a flock of birds into flight. Gibbs own cock strained against his pants, wanting a chance at release, too.

He jerked when Tony's hand popped the button of his trousers and slipped inside. Gibbs moved to give Tony better access, aware that reaching his own climax wouldn't take very long. He let out a long groan as Tony worked on him, stroking his hard length in long, swift sweeps. He cried out when his dick started pulsing, thick white streams splattering out onto Tony's stomach.

They were both panting when Gibbs lowered himself down into the grass next to DiNozzo where he propped himself on one elbow. Tony's eyes were closed and his lips were parted; he had one hand thrown over his forehead and the other wrapped in the hem of Gibbs' shirt. The sight was incredibly sexy and incredibly endearing – he suspected he would never get his fill of the boyish agent wrapped up in the body of a Greek Adonis. It was amazing he had managed to keep his hands to himself this long. At least they wouldn't have to try and pretend the walk in the woods was about anything other than back to nature sex. Gibbs tossed his arm across Tony's chest and lay there, breathing in Tony's musky scent and letting the sun warm his face.

A small part of him wanted to be happy, to enjoy this brief moment in time, but reality wouldn't let him go and he contemplated just what they would do once they left this mad place behind them and returned home.

Would he be forced to let Tony go? Would DiNozzo want to forget everything that happened here? For a long time he watched Tony's chest rise and fall and tried to predict a future that was impossible to see.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Steve barreled around the small office clenching and unclenching his fists. "What the hell is this, Rick?" he demanded when the former psychiatrist entered and shut the door behind him. "Are you trying to get rid of me? Don't you trust me anymore?"

Rick walked behind the desk and sat down, his body relaxed and calm in the face of Steve's rage. He crossed his legs before speaking. "Of course I trust you; we're in this together. Partners. I would never turn my back on you."

There was a long silence as Steve turned to face away from the wiry older man, gathering his thoughts around him. "I don't know where I'd go if you made me leave," he said softly. "This is my home."

"I know that," Rick replied, reaching into a drawer and removing a bottle of dark colored liquor and two glasses. He poured each of them a drink. "Here," he held out a glass toward his long-time friend. "Calm down."

Steve turned and frowned, before taking the glass and swallowing the liquid in one quick gulp. Rick sipped his and poured Steve another. His partner might not be the most intelligent man, but he was loyal and willing to do anything that needed to be done to ensure the survival of their enterprise. He was often brash and headstrong, yet both those traits had proven useful over the years.

And he knew how to kill without regret or remorse. That was a quality Rick couldn't buy, and he doubted Leroy Jackson was quite so cold-blooded. He needed Steve, and he intended to make sure the man never left his side. He was the brains, but Steve supplied much-needed muscle. "I shouldn't have said that earlier; it was insensitive of me," he placated.

"You're fascinated with this Leroy dude," Steve complained. "But I don't like him and I don't trust him. The way he looks at DiNozzo – it just ain't right. There's something going on there."

"You might be correct. I've noticed a much stronger connection than would seem possible in such a short amount of time, especially from someone as combative as Tony has been." Rick took another sip of his drink, considering. "I'll watch them but I don't want them to know we suspect anything so do your damn best to act normal. Think you can accomplish that?"

"Of course I can. Just promise me one thing."

Rick sighed, guessing he already knew the request. Steve didn't disappoint; he usually did more thinking with his dick than with his brain and there was no way he could let a man as attractive as DiNozzo go without testing out the product.

"Before that brat gets sold off, I'm going to fuck him – and that damn prick Leroy is going to watch me. We'll see what he thinks about somebody else's cock in his pet's ass." Steve slammed his glass on the desk and gloated. "No one makes a fool of me and gets away with it, especially not a smart-mouthed slave."

Rick poured another drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down his throat; as long as DiNozzo brought in as much at auction as he hoped, he didn't care what was done to him, by Leroy, Steve, or Nakamura himself. There was a house on a Caribbean island he was interested in buying, and the pretty NCIS agent was his ticket to balmy nights and ocean breezes.

He might even take a slave or two.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony paused outside the training room door, hesitating until Gibbs gave him a shove in the back that caused him to stumble through the opening. Briefly Tony wondered what Gibbs would do if he refused to enter; would he be punished for the defiance? He had no desire to find out what kind of punishment Gibbs could hand out, even if it was only being done to maintain their undercover identities. There was no rational reason to be afraid; Gibbs had already promised to do something pleasurable that would satisfy Rick, Steve, and the other gawkers, and would show Tony the benefits of being a sub. He wasn't convinced that was possible, but he was willing to let Gibbs give it a shot.

After their afternoon alone, he would probably let Gibbs try just about anything. They had stayed in the woods as long as possible, enjoying the sun and warm breeze and the peaceful break of not being observed by Rick and his band of thugs. It had surprised him how good it felt to simply lie in the grass next to Gibbs while the older man traced calloused fingers up and down his torso, occasionally kissing him, and talking about nothing more important than whatever movie flitted across Tony's mind. Gibbs seemed content to let him rattle on, smiling enigmatically when Tony said something funny, and even offering up a comment or two of his own. It was comfortable and easy in a way Tony hadn't experienced with another person in a long, long time. They had studiously avoided the topic of their escape – for the time being they were trapped, and it did no good to focus on their predicament. It was nice to not worry for a while.

Gibbs had cataloged every bruise marring Tony's skin, every rib poking out of his too thin body, every scrape, scratch, and cut that remained from the harsh treatment he had endured at the hands of these sadists. Tony had watched him through slitted eyes filled with disbelief at his gentle ministrations. After so many years of knowing only the bastard, it was hard for him to accept the nurturing side that so few people ever got to see. He suspected only Shannon had brought out the softness that tempered the steel at the core of his Boss' being.

"It's time to go back," Gibbs had eventually announced as the sun moved lower in the sky, brushing his lips against Tony's. The senior field agent swallowed down a flare of panic at the idea of returning.

"Maybe we should just make a run for it," Tony declared, sitting up and brushing grass from his hair. "I don't know about your gut, but mine says this is all going to end really bad really soon."

Gibbs reached down a hand and pulled Tony to his feet. "Can't do it, DiNozzo. We'd either end up fried in that fence or shot in the ass. We have to take our time and come up with a plan if we want to make it out of this alive."

Tony bit his lip – Gibbs shouldn't even be here. Guilt rose up like bile. "I know you're right, I'm just worried that's all. You shouldn't have come after me, Boss. You shouldn't have…."

A finger pressed against his lips, silencing him. Gibbs leaned his forehead against Tony's and ran a hand through his hair. The protective gesture sent a surge of electricity from the point of contact straight down Tony's spine. "I'm exactly where I want to be, and I'm going to get us out of here. Trust me."

Tony smiled, small and genuine and heartfelt. Maybe there were some positive aspects to this sub thing after all, especially if you were lucky enough to get Gibbs for a Dom. "Always, Boss. All ways."

He did trust Gibbs, more than anyone; hell they had practically had sex…..made love….what had they done earlier in the day? It was still hard to believe that Gibbs had jerked him off to a mind blowing orgasm and kissed him for hours. Gibbs. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His Boss. Tony's hand had been wrapped around Gibbs' dick. He was amazed his mind was still intact to process the information.

Now they were back to this alternate universe that had made it all possible, but also scared the living shit out of him. He took a shallow breath and swore to really put his faith in Gibbs to know his limits, and not push him farther than he could go.

Gibbs led Tony across the hardwood floor to a large, overstuffed brown leather chair. His Boss sank down into the plush cushion, and with his eyes indicated for Tony to kneel. DiNozzo settled by his feet, ass on his heels, and leaned toward Gibbs. He was practically begging to be petted, and Gibbs obliged, resting his hand on Tony's head, carding fingers through his hair as the training sessions started around them. The activities were unsettling, to say the least, and having Gibbs touching him somehow made it easier to tune it all out.

He focused on the soothing sensation, trying to ignore his own nakedness while so many people were milling about. The were all engrossed in their own actions, and no one really paid that much attention to him, but it didn't make him feel any less exposed and vulnerable. He doubted he would ever get used to parading around in his birthday suit for the world to see.

Rick entered, wearing a thin grey sweater with patches on the elbows, pleated pants, and wingtipped shoes. He looked more likely to give a lecture than bend a slave to his will, except for the bullwhip he carried in his hand. Steve held a young man by the arm, roughly dragging him past equipment until he was centered under a set of chains. Quickly his arms were stretched wide and he was secured in place for a beating Tony had more than enough memories of himself. The man was whimpering softly, trying to hold onto his dignity. The battle didn't last long, as Rick placed a row of vicious red stripes on his exposed back. By the time Rick finished his victim had resorted to crying and pleading for mercy. Rick gave a satisfied laugh and left the sobbing man hanging in his chains.

The sight made Tony sick. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air; low moans and outright screams punctuated the sounds of smacking skin and the dull thud of floggers. Nothing in this room was about pleasure; it only existed for control and pain.

Tony grew more agitated the longer the night went on. Sensing his tension, Gibbs skillfully eased the knots out of his shoulders. Tony silently questioned if the older man was ever going to do anything to him, or if they were only watching tonight. Tony didn't know if he could handle any kind of "training" that put him in a position of subjugation; the cracks in his armor were growing wider by the minute.

Steve approached; he'd removed his shirt and his muscles glistened with sweat from beating a slave with a cane before jerking off all over the bound man's back. His barbaric laughter still echoed in Tony's ears.

"So is this what the best trainer around does with his sub? Sits all evening and watches everybody else work? Rick might buy your Zen crap but I think you're full of bullshit, Leroy." He grabbed Tony's chin and forced his face up to look at him. "You want a real Dom to show you a thing or two?" he asked, roughing up Tony but in reality baiting Gibbs. "I'll show you what it really means to submit. You know I can, don't you?"

"Boy," Gibbs called out, "over here."

Tony jerked free from Steve's grip and stood, gladly turning his back on the moron, to find Gibbs pointing at the area right in front of where he sat in the chair.

Gibbs stood to face him, kicking his feet apart and unhooking his wrist cuffs. "You need to learn your positions," he ordered. "Lace your fingers behind your head and don't move, I have something for you."

The silver-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out two small sparkly objects. He bent forward and licked around Tony's nipple, eliciting a surprised squawk from DiNozzo. He sucked and teased until the nipple was diamond hard and standing up in a peak. Without warning, he attached something cold and tight around the tormented flesh; with a quick twist he tightened the nipple clamp until Tony lifted up on his toes and started panting with the pain.

"Bo…..boss…." he spat out before he could stop himself.

Steve chuckled, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his forehead. "Boss? You have him call you boss? I'll have to give you points for that one, Leroy; it's original."

Gibbs glared at him, and through the haze of agony in his nipple Tony considered telling the muscle-bound idiot that he'd seen that look often enough to know it meant shut the hell up. Instead Tony watched in mortification as Gibbs moved his hand to attach the second clamp to his other nipple.

"No, wait," he said, taking down his hands and reaching toward Gibbs to stop the clamp from snapping shut.

The former marine grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, turning him around in one swift move that left him gasping. "Don't," Gibbs whispered in his ear. "Your body is mine and I do what I want to it. Don't interfere."

Tony didn't know how to respond to the terse, unyielding command. The kind, gentle lover from this afternoon was gone, replaced by the emotionless, not to be questioned, Dom. "Please," Tony answered quietly, hoping against hope for a little sympathy. "It hurts."

"I know." Gibbs turned him around again, once more putting his hands behind his neck.

"Lace your fingers together."

Tony did it, but his entire body trembled with the effort. The other trainers had stopped to watch him, and a flush of red crept across his cheeks advertising his embarrassment. What was worse, his traitorous cock now pressed hard and leaking against his belly. He couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with him that every time Gibbs got pushy he got horny. The reaction was driving him crazy – he didn't really want to be turned on by this type of thing but he was helpless to stop it.

Gibbs approached again, light glinting off the tiny torturous device in his fingers.

"Don't. Move."

It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to stand still while Gibbs attached the second clamp just as tightly as the first. Tony wanted to hop up and down, scream, cry, and babble; every nerve ending he owned pulsed and heat spread across his chest.

Gibbs kissed him, the talented tongue exploring his mouth, and momentarily distracted him from the pain. He let himself get lost in the sensation, becoming further unbalanced when Gibbs tugged at his hair. "Boss…." He whispered into Gibbs' mouth as their lips parted.

"You're doing good, boy," Gibbs praised, guiding him to the chair where he forced him to lean over the arm. The change in position sent a rush of blood to his nipples that only added to the throbbing. He barely noticed as his legs were spread; it was the cold lube that finally got his attention.

"Huh?" He tried to turn his head, but Gibbs pushed it back down.

Tony nearly arched off the chair when a slick finger pushed inside him. It felt good but at the same time…..everyone was watching him writhe and moan as another finger entered. Shame and lust intermingled, and he had no idea which emotion was going to win control. Stars exploded behind his eyes when Gibbs expertly nudged his prostate and lust took the lead. Tony nearly cried when the fingers were pulled away and the impersonal feel of soft rubber took their place; he had to brace himself as Gibbs pushed a plug, small and pliable, firmly inside him until the flared base rested against his hole. It burnt and stretched him farther than his body was ready to accommodate, and he tried to squirm away.

"Too much," he commented feebly, both excited and afraid. _I trust you, I trust you, I trust you._ He repeated the words over and over like a prayer.

Gibbs wasn't interested. "I'll tell you when it's too much." He helped Tony stand, and DiNozzo did his best not to teeter drunkenly, overwhelmed by the competing sensations coming from his chest and his ass. He felt alive and electrified, but at the same time dazed and disoriented. Gibbs sat back down in the chair and took Tony's hand, drawing him close.

DiNozzo stared back, confused.

"Over my lap," his Boss ordered.

It took a few seconds for the latest command to register. Gibbs wanted him to do what?

"Come on, boy, I don't have all day."

Tony looked at the other man's lap, unable to imagine doing what Gibbs wanted.

"Now, slave."

The tone was no nonsense, not to be ignored, and all Gibbs. He couldn't say no even if he had wanted to. But he didn't want to say no, he wanted to do what Gibbs said, and find the pleasure trying to override the pain. If he was ever going to understand what it was like to give up control to someone who deserved the gift, it was now or never.

With uncertainty as to what was going to happen next, Tony did his best to comply, awkwardly arranging himself over the Lead Agent's legs. At Tony's height it wasn't easy, but eventually he managed.

"Have you ever been spanked?" the older man asked huskily, letting his hands kneed the flesh on Tony's ass. DiNozzo felt himself harden even more if that was possible. He wondered if he might cum from simply laying in this position and letting Gibbs touch him.

"No," Tony groaned out honestly. _Not like this. _He thought back to the club where he'd first met Steve, and the couple who had put on the show; how in tune they had been to each other, how completely satisfied they both seemed.

A hand came down on one of his cheeks, not too hard but enough to sting, and Tony stiffened.

"Trust me, Tony," Gibbs reminded him, with a squeeze.

_I do. I will. _

And Tony let himself surrender.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Notes: **_A major development by the end of this chapter; poor Tony can't stay out of trouble for long. Rescue/escape is coming soon, but there's a lot that goes down in the next 48 hours, both physically and emotionally.

Big surprises await McGee in the next few chapters! I hope you like where that plotline goes. Thanks for the supportive and encouraging reviews – they really help keep me motivated!

**Chapter 14**

It was nothing like Tony expected.

Not that in any of his very vivid fantasies he had ever imagined this particular scenario.

Gibbs held him in place with an arm around his waist. His other hand he used to place a series of sharp, well-placed blows on Tony's ass. It hurt, that was for damn sure, his butt already sensitive from being pummeled far too often by Rick and Steve. But it was more than pain, it was…so intense, so sensual, so settling, he had never experienced anything like it.

The silver-haired man focused on one cheek until it burned, then switched to the other, giving it an equal amount of attention. His dick, trapped tightly between Gibbs' vice-like thighs, twitched and jerked hopelessly.

A swat jarred the butt plug, sending it into contact with his prostate, and he cried out at the pleasure.

"Like that? I knew you would."

Tony moaned helplessly, wiggling in Gibbs' firm grip. His balls drew up, his orgasm threatening to surge out at any moment; somehow he felt that would be wrong – not yet. He shouldn't cum yet.

The blows landed harder, the flat, rough palm of Gibbs' hand reining down relentlessly on Tony's backside. He tried to think about the sweet agony in his nipples, about the crowd leering at them, about his inability to choose what he wanted in his life – but slowly it all receded into the background, and all he could focus on was the building fire in his ass, the blood rushing in his veins and his heart hammering in his chest.

"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful."

Gibbs' words registered vaguely in Tony's mind as his Dom moved his attention to the area near the top of Tony's thighs, bringing with the change of position a fresh wave of pain mixed with tantalizing enjoyment. He gasped and his hands searched for something to grip onto, finding the edge of the chair to curl around. He couldn't understand his reaction – this should have been horrific and humiliating, but it wasn't. He felt like a mote of dust floating along a ray of sunlight, drifting, moving with the currents of air, searching for a place to land.

There was only Gibbs and him, connected by the striking of that hand. Something that had been coiled tightly inside him released, unfurled, and opened up, like a blooming flower desperate for the morning dew. He belonged to Gibbs, a part of him always had, but now every atom in his body, every iota of his soul, every particle of his being was owned by Gibbs completely.

As it should be.

The older man jiggled the plug again, just barely, but enough to evoke a guttural scream.

"Cum for me, boy."

It was all Tony needed. He bucked and ground into Gibbs' lap as his dick released itself over and over again. He sagged limp, wasted, emptied out, his body melding into Gibbs' strong lap; he could feel his Boss' erection pressing against him but he had no energy to do anything about it. If Gibbs wanted him to do something more, he'd say so.

The slaps slowed, lightened, stopped. Tony shivered, the coolness of the room raising goosebumps on his sweaty skin. Gibbs' hand hovered gently over his blazing rear, delicately ghosting over the heated flesh. The hand around his waist loosened, came to rest between his shoulders.

"That was a good job, Tony."

If he had been able to control any muscles in his lax body, he would have smiled at the praise. Instead he concentrated on keeping his eyes open, since he felt like falling into a deep, deep sleep. A hand carded his hair and voices swirled around him.

"Let Nakamura see that and we'll get a cool half million." Steve.

"That was quite impressive, Leroy." Rick.

"I never thought anyone would get him to drop like that." Josh.

There were more murmered exchanges he couldn't understand and he must have shut down for a while because the next thing entering his awareness was Gibbs shaking his arm.

"Can you stand?"

Tony nodded, not feeling up to using words. He carefully slid off of Gibbs, his feet hitting the floor with a thump. Gibbs stood up too, steadying him with a firm grip on his shoulders.

Reaching around, Gibbs grabbed the base of the plug and gently eased it out; Tony made a small sound in his throat and closed his eyes again.

"You ok?" Gibbs asked, eyes narrowed to inspect him for injury.

"F..fine," Tony supplied, swaying some – his legs felt weak like a newborn colt and he wondered how long he was going to remain standing.

"Alright, let's get these off." Gibbs gripped his arms again and gave him a shake until his eyes opened. "This is going to hurt, understand?"

Tony blinked. Gibbs didn't linger until DiNozzo came up with a more comprehensible response; he removed one of the nipple clamps quickly and waited.

At first the area tingled like a numb arm or foot, then blood rushed back into the abused area. His eyes flew wide and he nearly puked with the intensity. "Shit!" Gibbs held onto him until the spike of red hot agony subsided.

"Now the other one," Gibbs stated calmly. Tony whimpered at the thought, but didn't fight when Gibbs released his other nipple, repeating the agonizing process. When it was done he was trembling all over, adrenaline crashing down and totally wiping him out.

''Can you get him back to your room?" he heard Rick ask as his head lolled against Gibbs' shoulder.

"It's not that far," Gibbs replied, and then he was moving with Tony stumbling along beside him.

By the time they reached the main house he was cold and shaking. Gibbs immediately steered him toward the bed, placing him under soft sheets and warm blankets.

Gibbs turned to leave and Tony immediately snagged his wrist, unable to consider him going away, even to the other side of the room. The idea of being apart made his stomach clench.

The look his Boss, his Dom, gave him was entirely different than any Tony had ever seen before; it was like a fire glowed behind his pale blue eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tony." He lifted Tony's hand and kissed the palm. "As long as you want me, I'm right here."

It was enough; Tony gave his trust to Gibbs again and closed his heavy eyes settling down into soothing darkness, believing when he woke Gibbs would be there, and that was all that really mattered.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs placed the jar of cream on the nightstand. Even when he was applying the soothing balm to Tony's red ass, the boy remained asleep, his face relaxed in a blissful expression that made him look ten years younger.

The Dom took a minute to carefully check Tony's hole, finding it pink and loose, the jelly-filled plug having done no harm during the spanking. He sat for a minute and admired the handprints on DiNozzo's creamy cheeks, satisfied that he had left his mark but not caused any long-term damage. Gazing upward to the divot in the small of Tony's back, across his broad shoulders, and ending at his tousled bed-head, he smiled. He had never allowed himself to imagine the possibility of having his senior field agent sprawled naked before him, ready to submit to his desires and whims. Even when he had toyed with the idea, he never truly believed Tony would ever be able to let go of whatever demons possessed him and kept him from embracing his submissive nature.

Given the choice, he would have never wished for this situation to provide the opportunity. Realistically, he understood that should they manage to get out of this loony-bin safely, there was a high probability DiNozzo would never want to engage in these behaviors again. The abuse he'd endured as a child had scarred him enough; being forced to play a submissive when he wasn't any where near ready was certain to leave even more psychological damage.

Tony moved in his sleep and gave a small contented sigh. He was definitely attracted to the younger man, but wasn't sure if they were in love; there just hadn't been enough of that kind of interaction. He cared for Tony, admired and respected him. There was no one more loyal, more trustworthy, more willing to sacrifice for those he considered family. There was no one else who could make him smile the way Tony could, causing him to chuckle in even the direst of circumstances. He had to admit a certain perverse pleasure at yanking Tony's chain and watching his exaggerated reactions to the teasing. Being near Tony made him feel younger, happier, lighter. His own demons were forced back into the shadows when Tony found some quirky, irreverent way to slay them. He remembered Tony standing in that elevator, resignation in hand; he had come so close to losing him before either of them had found the guts to admit what they might be feeling. He acknowledged that a life without DiNozzo in it was a dark prospect to face.

A life filled with Tony…he'd be made to watch movies he'd never heard of, shop for clothes he didn't need, discuss pop culture that didn't matter, take vacations just for the hell of it, make love until they collapsed in each other's arms…..and he would love every minute of it. Maybe that was all that mattered.

"Boss?" The sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts, and he found bright green eyes staring at him. "You coming to bed? Or do you want me to get up with you?"

Gibbs made quick work of stripping off his clothes, trying not to smirk when he stepped out of his boxers and Tony's eyes grew to the size of emerald marbles.

"Does it bother you if I sleep like this?"

He saw Tony's Adam's apple bob up and down before he answered. "I'm good."

Gibbs quirked a smile and crawled under the covers until his chest rested against Tony's back and his arms encircled the other man's chest. He placed a kiss on the top of Tony's head. He waited for Tony to relax, but his muscles remained tense.

"What's on your mind?"

Tony snuggled closer to him, until Gibbs' hard dick was pressed against his still warm ass. "I've never let myself feel this way before," his sub finally replied.

"Does it scare you that it's me?"

"No! No, I couldn't imagine anyone but you." Tony paused. "Do you want to fuck me?"

God…..only Tony. Yesterday he would have argued to the death that he could never be a sub and today he was offering up his ass on a silver platter. "Would you let me?" Tony had dropped into subspace like a rock and he wanted to gauge how far down the boy had fallen.

"Yes. I want you to." Tony's answer had a breathy quality and he gave a little wiggle to emphasize the point.

Gibbs playfully pinched his hot mound of flesh and Tony yelped. "Not tonight; you're still in subspace and it wouldn't be fair. If I ever fuck you I want it to be a decision you make with a clear head."

"Is that why I feel like this? If I didn't know better I'd swear you drugged me." Tony nuzzled his cheek against Gibbs' arm.

"It's a natural high; I'm glad I could get you there."

"I'm surprised any of your wives ever left you," Tony sighed dreamily.

Gibbs stroked his arm, making a lazy pattern. "Not everyone responds the way you did. You remind me of Shannon."

"I do?" The tone of disbelief struck a chord in Gibbs' heart. He wasn't sure if he should mention the way Tony's hard fought submission reminded him of his fiery first wife, but the comparison was true.

"Shannon's the one who discovered the lifestyle. We were fighting and she decided it was because we needed to embrace our roles. She was a hell of a lot smarter than me."

Tony rolled over and faced Gibbs, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim ray of moonlight finding its way through the window. "I want to show you how much I appreciate…everything. Let me."

Gibbs stroked a finger over Tony's lips and kissed him, enjoying the way Tony opened up completely, and how the younger man wasn't just a compliant participant. Tony nipped his lips and sucked his tongue, almost making Gibbs rethink his refusal. His cock was so hard it hurt.

He forced himself to break off the kiss. If there was anything he'd learned about being a Dom, it was that he had to sometimes make tough decisions in the best interest of his partner. "No. I want you, I think that's obvious, but not until you're sure."

"I am sure," Tony protested, thrusting against Gibbs' hips. "I want this."

Gibbs smacked his thigh. "Are you going to argue with me? Have you accepted me as your Dom?" he growled.

"I….I don't….." Tony stammered, unable to formulate a reply.

"Exactly." He softened. "Relax, Tony. I'm not going anywhere."

Tony nestled back down into Gibbs' arms. "I'm not very good at this."

"Have I ever not taught you what you need to know?" Gibbs challenged.

"Of course not," Tony answered quickly.

"And this is no different. Now let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we need to figure out how to get over that damn fence."

Tony didn't answer and Gibbs pulled him closer, neither willing to lend voice to the worries and fears that plagued them into sleep.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"McGee, stop fidgeting!" Ziva hissed, her irritation with her partner clear over the tinny sound of the hidden microphone.

Sacks smiled grimly. "She isn't too happy with his performance."

Fornell took a drink of coffee before jiggling his headphones. "Nope – if he doesn't straighten up soon I think she's going to really put that flogger to use."

This time Sacks laughed out loud. "And to think we'll have it all on tape. This assignment is too much."

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," Fornell commented dryly, tossing his cup in a paper bag full of burger wrappers. "Personally I can't forget the reason we're here long enough to turn it into a joke."

Sacks' face dropped. "Tobias, I'm sorry – I didn't mean it like that. I know you and Gibbs are friends. Damn, I can't quit making stupid comments."

"Yeah, you might not realize it but you're almost as bad as DiNutso." Fornell smacked the small monitor on the side to clear up the grainy image. The camera hidden inside Ziva's necklace gave a decent view of the interior of the bar, but the range was limited. Right now, the screen was mostly filled by McGee's nervous face.

"Keep your eyes down," the Israeli whispered to the other agent. "You must be the worst trained sub in the world!"

McGee appeared stricken, and the struggle not to respond played across his face. Eventually he turned his gaze to the floor, but it didn't appear easy for him to do.

"He really isn't a very good sub," Sacks commented, shaking his head when McGee squirmed again, unable to stay still as he sat on his knees next to Ziva. "I thought he'd be a natural."

"It takes a lot of self-control to submit," Fornell offered. "It's difficult to turn yourself over to someone else's rules. It doesn't matter though; we don't want him to do a good job anyway. It's part of the plan."

Sacks winced when Ziva smacked McGee on the back of the head with her hand.

"Problems?" Someone asked the NCIS agent.

"Nothing I cannot handle," Ziva replied, her accent much thicker and more exotic than usual. "Although I am starting to wonder if this slave is worth my time and effort. I am tired of trying to train him,"

Ziva's conversation with the man continued; Fornell listened with interest. It was the most they had gotten since the two agents had gone into the bar undercover several days before as part of the joint investigation being conducted by NCIS and the FBI. They had selected the club since it was one of Nakamura's regular spots and several of the missing men had been known to go there from time to time. They were hoping to convince someone that Ziva was a foreigner interested in a slave to take home with her. It was a long shot, but they currently had no other leads to follow.

He heard Ziva laugh. "This slave was a gift from my father, but he is not my type. I prefer a stronger man, one with more fight that provides a sense of satisfaction to take him down."

"A lady like you? I'm surprised you like them dangerous."

Ziva's voice took on a harsh edge. "I was trained by the Mossad. I need something more than a little mouse to bring me pleasure." She grabbed a handful of McGee's hair, forcefully pulling his head back to expose his neck, and he whimpered. Fornell almost felt sorry for him. "See? There is no challenge here."

The man slid into the seat next to her. "I might have something to interest you."

"Gotcha," Fornell whispered, hoping they had finally caught a break.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"So what do you hope to find out today?" Tony asked from his perch on the edge of the bed where he drank a cup of coffee. He was feeling more like himself this morning, after a full night's sleep. In Gibbs' arms. Waking up with his Boss' warm breath tickling the hair on the back of his neck had been entirely surreal. They had been sleeping in the same bed for days, but last night had been different. He had felt closer to Gibbs, more a part of him.

The whole subspace thing; that had been unexpected. He never imagined it could feel like that, to be so at peace and so content with whatever happened as long as Gibbs was with him. He still felt hungover from the experience, like he'd been merged together with Gibbs and come out changed into something new. The former marine walked across the floor, hair damp from the shower, in a pair of snug jeans and nothing else, silver hair on his chest making a trail down past the waistband of his pants. Tony thoroughly enjoyed the view.

Gibbs caught him staring and smirked brazenly. "Wasn't yesterday enough for you?"

Tony felt a warm rush creep across his face as he blushed; Gibbs had brought him to two mind blowing orgasms and he was already thinking about sex again. Being in this place had completely warped his brain. He had always wanted Gibbs' full attention, and he certainly had it now.

Gibbs picked up his own cup of coffee and sat down. "Did you like being spanked?"

Tony could feel his face grow even hotter. He wasn't sure how to answer the question now that he wasn't floating around in some kind of mesmerized daze. He had more than liked it, he had reveled in it. The faint sting in his ass was a reminder that Gibbs had thoroughly dominated him into a blissed out state of nirvana. Glancing up, he found Gibbs staring at him fondly. "I liked it," he admitted. "But I'm pretty sure you already knew that."

The smile on Gibbs' face was worth the honesty. "Didn't take a mind reader to figure that out." He drained his cup and abruptly changed the subject. "Today I find out when the fence gets turned off. I'm thinking that when supplies are delivered or when new slaves arrive they have to shut it down, but I need that confirmed and to know exactly when it happens again."

Tony scratched his head. "I noticed a supply shed – we might be able to get wire cutters out of there."

Gibbs gave a brief nod and Tony almost felt like he was back at NCIS. "Show me where and I'll check that out, too." It didn't escape Tony that Gibbs had changed the we to an I. He didn't like being relegated to the bench by the team leader.

Gibbs took Tony's empty cup and sat it on the table, then tilted Tony's chin with his hand and captured his mouth with a kiss. Tony's mind shut down for a few minutes and he was panting when Gibbs pulled away. The boss stroked his cheek. "They're going to expect me to keep pushing you, to go past your limits. Don't be afraid of what happens today."

Tony narrowed his eyes at another implication that he was less than capable, and his peaceful mood disappeared. "I'm not afraid, Gibbs. Just because I melted into a puddle of goo last night doesn't mean all of the sudden I'm some damsel in distress who needs the great big Dom to come save her – him – I mean me! I am a damn federal agent, you know!"

Gibbs shook his head in exasperation and folded his arms. "You have no experience with these types of people and you'd be stupid not to be afraid. These men want you broken, DiNozzo, they don't want a normal D/s dynamic. When they're done they want you to submit out of fear, not out of desire. So quit trying to prove you're a macho stud and be fucking honest for a change."

"Is this what it means to be your sub? You lecture and tell me what to feel? I'm not sure if I'm into that after all." He suddenly felt apprehensive and angry, not sure why he was lashing out at Gibbs. Last night had been incredible, but it had also been frightening. To realize he could completely lose himself like that – he had even offered to let Gibbs fuck him. He wasn't sure he could handle being that far gone even if it was Gibbs who had control of him.

Gibbs' nostrils flared impatiently. "I didn't think you were ready. It's a good thing I was smart enough not to take you up on your offer last night." Gibbs might not talk much, but he was good at verbal warfare when he needed to be, and it was clear to Tony how any one of his exes could want to bash a golf club in his head.

The former marine grabbed a white shirt and buttoned it up then slipped on a pair of high top black boots. It wasn't fair that in less than thirty seconds he was sexy enough to make Tony's mouth water. DiNozzo clamped down on the attraction and reminded himself he was pissed off. He found the familiar feeling comforting in the face of other, more overwhelming, emotions. He should be happy to finally have Gibbs all to himself, but it wasn't that easy. If there was a way to screw up potentially being happy, Tony could usually find it.

Gibbs clipped the leash to his collar and hooked the cuffs behind his back like he was hauling in a perp with an attitude. Tony stared incredulously, flexing against the restraints self-consciously. It was another reminder that he was at the mercy of everyone around him, even Gibbs. "Is that necessary?" he asked, hating that he was the one who was vulnerable and on display.

"Yeah, I think so," Gibbs answered curtly. "I'm not sure I trust you to behave today."

"Fuck you, Gibbs," Tony said without thinking, letting his frustration get the best of him.

"I already turned you down once, DiNozzo, don't make me do it again."

Tony opened his mouth to provide a smart-ass reply when Gibbs grasped his head between his hands. "I won't let you do this." Gibbs cupped Tony's chin until the younger man was forced to reluctantly meet his clear blue eyes; the depth of compassion in them made Tony feel ashamed. "You aren't going to irritate me into an argument with you. Not today. You gave something special to me last night, and you can't take it back because you're scared. It doesn't work like that. A part of you belongs to me and that isn't going to change."

Tony stared at Gibbs silently as he experienced a rush of clarity. Leave it to his boss, his Dom, to see through it all before he realized it himself. He supposed he was trying to push Gibbs away by picking a fight. "I don't mean to act like this," he apologized. "I can't seem to help it."

"I know." Gibbs smiled, and Tony felt relieved that he hadn't messed it all up that quickly. Gibbs understood him more deeply than anyone else ever had, insecurities and all. The older man gave his arm a supportive squeeze and tugged the leash. "Let's get out of here before someone comes looking for us."

Tony followed as Gibbs stepped into the hallway and pulled him along behind. He tried to emulate Gibbs' calm demeanor, but he found his anger returning quickly in response to the leers of all the guards and trainers they passed. It increased when he saw the other slaves who knelt deferentially waiting to be allowed to eat, at the sight of Rick and Steve holding court like two medieval lieges, with Josh who was simpering at their side. He wanted out of here, to go home and eat Chinese take-out, drink a beer, harass McGee and Ziva, and watch a movie he could recite by heart.

When they arrived in the dining room the slaves were filing out and the trainers were getting ready to follow. "I thought we were going to have to send someone to wake you," Rick said with a wry grin. "I'm guessing you didn't get much sleep." He raised his eyebrows at Tony who stared back defiantly, unwilling to drop his eyes to the floor as was expected of a slave.

Steve folded his arms and let his cold dark eyes flick toward Gibbs, silently questioning the renewed rebelliousness. Gibbs just shrugged and rolled his eyes before none too gently pushing Tony's head toward the floor.

Rick laced his fingers together and studied both Tony and Gibbs for a long moment before speaking. "We have a special treat for your boy today; I hope he's in the mood to enjoy it."  
>Warning alarms sounded in Tony's ears. A special treat? Tony peaked at his captors; Steve looked especially smug about their surprise, which didn't bode well for the experience.<p>

"What do you have in mind?" Gibbs asked coolly; if he was concerned he didn't show it.

"Follow me; I'm sure you'll approve once you see what we have planned." Rick strode off down a hallway they hadn't entered before.

They didn't really have any options other than doing as requested, so the agents followed along. The room they were led to resembled a small dental office with a chair in the center and equipment on the sides. Tony balked when Rick prodded him toward the padded chair. He considered attacking the slave trader, maybe ramming his head into Rick's flat belly, but the gun at his waist reminded him of his tactical disadvantage. Steve was also armed as usual, with a pistol at his side, a rifle over his shoulder, and a bullwhip on his belt. Nothing like being prepared.

"Come on, boy, have a seat," Rick demanded. Tony cast a desperate look at Gibbs, whose brow had furrowed into a tight frown. "No need to look at him – this is out of his hands. I made this decision and it's final. Now sit."

Steve roughly steered him into the chair and wrapped heavy leather straps around his wrists and ankles. "What are you going to do?" Tony asked, unable to remain silent and feeling slightly freaked out. He scanned the room, trying to discover exactly what they did in here. Gibbs' face was an unreadable mask that offered Tony no answers.

"No one gave you permission to speak," Steve replied, smacking him under the chin so hard his teeth clacked and he bit his tongue.

"Shit!" Tony yelled instinctively, grimacing with pain.

The lead agent took a step toward them, only to be interrupted by Rick.

"Stop that, Steve." He was accompanied by a man dressed in black leather pants and a leather vest, who snapped on a pair of latex gloves and grinned, several gold teeth shining in the sunlight. He was covered in head to toe tattoos, even his face marked with a swirl of shapes and colors. His eyebrows were pierced, his lips, his nose, and Tony suspected several spots where the sun didn't shine were also studded.

"I'd like you to meet Robby, our tattoo artist and piercing expert," Rick introduced, and Robby did a small curtsy. "Nakamura likes to have his slaves pierced, so we decided a few adornments might increase the price at auction."

"Pierced?" Tony's voice had gone a little squeaky. Maybe Abby would like it; he on the other hand had no interest. "I don't want to be pierced." He struggled vainly against the straps holding him in place. "Come on, Boss, do something here," Tony pleaded.

Rick sighed and turned toward Gibbs. "He isn't getting the message about not speaking until addressed. You're doing much better with him than Steve, but I'm beginning to think he needs a lot more consequences to understand his place." The salt and pepper haired man went to a drawer and rummaged around, returning with a gag. He stuffed the bright red ball in Tony's mouth and strapped it around DiNozzo's head. "No talking," he ordered, tugging hard on Tony's hair.

The senior field agent seethed. When he got the chance he'd make Al Pacino in Scarface look like a fucking girl scout. The bride in Kill Bill would be a nun compared to him. He'd murder them all.

The leather clad man approached, plucking Tony's right nipple in his fingers and placing a dot on either side with a marker. Tony squirmed, his skin sticking to the leather chair. "Stop moving," he was ordered, but he couldn't comply. It was another violation, another situation he had no way of stopping. He growled into the gag and bucked away from the unwanted fingers trying to grasp at his hardened nipple.

"Settle down!" Rick demanded, pushing down on his chest until he was plastered in the chair. "People get piercings all the time; it's not that big of a deal."

Steve laughed. "Looks like our little princess is afraid – you want me to give him a shot of something?" The trainer turned toward a row of shelves lining the wall.

"No wait, let me take care of it." Gibbs' suddenly stepped forward and relief swept through Tony; he had been afraid Gibbs would stand back and do nothing to punish him for being an ass earlier. He should have known better; the Boss wasn't like that. Tony might get chewed out later, but for right now the older man had his six. Familiar hands gripped Tony's arm as he continued to wiggle and move away from Robby. DiNozzo could smell Gibbs, feel the calluses on his fingertips, but it didn't change the fact Tony did not want this to happen. "Hey, hey – it's alright," he soothed. Tony felt familiar hands brush the hair off his forehead and he turned to look at Gibbs; Gibbs who he had cursed at and had every right to be mad as hell at him. All he saw in the blue eyes gazing down at him was concern and patience.

"You aren't going to stop this so you might as well let them get it over with."

The advice was stern and pragmatic, exactly what he expected from his Boss, and it eased Tony's mind in a way nothing else could. "Just look at me and you'll do fine."

Tony took a deep breath through his nose and blinked, refusing to break the blue gaze that held him captive. Gibbs nodded once, and Tony felt fingers on him again. He tried to breathe slowly, deliberately. Rationally he knew this was a simple procedure done to countless people every day, but it didn't change the fact it was happening against his will.

"Don't take your eyes off me," Gibbs whispered, running a finger along his collarbone. Tony jerked and groaned when the sharp pain of the needle penetrated the sensitive skin beneath his nipple; his eyes watered and he clenched his fists, wishing Gibbs' could hold his hand. The pain continued as the needle moved out the other side, and he felt pressure from something being pushed down. He didn't let his focus move from Gibbs' face; he mapped every laugh line, every scar, traced his lips within his mind. His heartbeat slowed, matching rhythm with the stroking of Gibbs' finger. He barely noticed when the leather clad man declared, "There!" and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Thanks, Robby," Rick said, his lips puckering seductively, obviously pleased with the result. "It looks good."

Gibbs smiled, adding his approval. "He's right – it does look good."

Tony managed to glance down at the gold hoop hanging from his nipple and rolled his eyes. He looked like a cheap whore. And it hurt like hell. He wanted to crawl in a hole and block out the world.

"Here." Robby applied some stinging antiseptic and covered the area with a bandage while Tony winced and fumed. "It takes some time to heal and we don't want an infection. Keep it dry and I'll take a look at it again tomorrow."

Gibbs reached down and released the straps holding Tony to the chair; Tony sat up gratefully.

"Don't touch the gag," Rick stated before Gibbs could unbuckle the device that was preventing Tony from voicing his extreme displeasure. "I think he needs some down time to get his head back in the right place. You could use a break, Leroy, and it will give us a few minutes to talk."

Tony tried not to panic, but he was pretty certain his eyes spoke volumes. The last time he'd been alone with these lunatics he'd nearly been beaten to death. And there was a part of him, the part that had been so utterly satiated last night lying over Gibbs' knee that freaked out at the possibility of being separated from the older man. He wrestled with his own weakness and tried to contain it, trying to deny the strength of the emotion.

Gibbs must have sensed his fear because suddenly he was behind Tony, hand on his hip, providing a comforting physical presence.

"Steve, put him in the cage for a few hours. Maybe it'll help him remember his manners." Rick grasped his chin roughly. "Only speak when spoken to, eyes down, and stop glaring at everyone."

"I'll take real good care of him," Steve answered ominously. "Come on princess, you're castle awaits."

The last thing Tony saw as he looked back over his shoulder was Gibbs watching him with troubled blue eyes.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Is there a problem?" Gibbs asked as he walked down the hallway with Rick. His gut didn't like leaving Tony behind; DiNozzo was obviously struggling with last night's submission, and the man's already paper thin emotions were all over the place. Given the wrong prompting from Steve, he could go off spectacularly.

The thought of the hyperkinetic DiNozzo chained in a cage created a disturbing picture, but it might be the best place for Tony over the next few hours. As long as he was left alone, it could actually force him to calm down and get his wildly unpredictable reactions under control. The spanking had given him hope that Tony might be ready to accept his submissive side; now he wasn't sure if that was ever going to happen.

He wasn't ready to give up on DiNozzo coming to terms with himself, but it wasn't a good sign. He focused on Rick, determined to get as much intel out of their conversation as possible. His primary concern had to be figuring out a way to escape.

Rick unlocked the door to his study and Gibbs followed him inside. Two large dogs that had been lounging behind his desk roused and immediately went to him for affectionate pats on the head. Once they had been acknowledged by their master, each came to sniff at Gibbs, growling slightly. "Yin, Yang, down." The pit bulls didn't hesitate, moving back to Rick's side before settling at his feet.

"Drink?" the older man offered, heading to his liquor cabinet.

"Bourbon," Gibbs replied, taking a seat and crossing his legs. He took in the furnishings, noting that the high end art and rich woods must have cost more than his yearly salary. The man had expensive tastes.

Rick poured and had a seat, leaning back in his chair, grey eyes cold and calculating. "You perplex me," he finally said.

"Why's that?" Gibbs asked, sipping his drink, waiting for the man to make his move.

"I thought you'd be tougher, more aggressive. DiNozzo seems ready to trip over himself to do what you want with just a look, no force required. I don't understand that and it bothers me. It doesn't make sense that you have so much control over him with so little time and effort." He tapped a finger on his glass. "Not that I'm displeased with the results. I'd just like to know how to replicate them."

Gibbs finished his drink and sat it down. "Nothing to replicate. I talked to him, found out about his past, and used that to connect with him. He wants to be protected by someone he respects, and right now I'm that guy."

Rick took a deep breath as if assessing the answer. "It's a strong bond – I'm worried about how he'll react when we take him to auction." He chuckled without humor. "I think he sees you as his actual owner. That's why I sent him away today; he needs to be handled by more trainers so he doesn't break down when he realizes he doesn't get to stay with you."

Gibbs tried not to get distracted by the anger flaring in his belly at the mention of letting others have Tony. That would happen over his dead body, but he'd deal with it later. "When is the auction?" he asked instead. "You said in a few weeks but I've yet to hear an exact date."

"Two weeks and three days. We'll fly down with DiNozzo and about five others. You'll come too, of course."

Shifting in his seat, Gibbs continued to pry. "Where?"

The shark-like smile returned. "I trust you, Leroy, but not that much. You'll find out when we get there."

"When will you replace the inventory?"

Rick stood and walked to the window, pulling back the drapes and staring outside. "I've already got people looking. I'd like to get some new slaves into training right after we get back. No down time that way."

"Sounds good to me. Just don't forget you promised me a percentage of the sale. Maybe I can find another good match in the new batch. Same terms, of course."

The smile Rick gave him was wider and more genuine. He seemed to have had whatever was bothering him satisfied with Gibbs focus on profit. "I'm sure there will be someone; I have no intention of wasting your talents. If the bidding goes well, I'm hoping to bring in around a million dollars for this group of slaves. Now why don't you go for a walk or something? Let that boy cool down some."

Gibbs stood. "Would there be any way I could get a few supplies brought in? There are a couple of implements I like to use that you don't have."

Rick scratched one of the dogs under the chin; the animal panted responsively. "Tell Steve what you want; he'll add it to the list. We have a delivery coming at the end of the week, but he should be able to add something if it's not too difficult to find."

The former marine nodded and walked out. If he was careful, he could break into the supply shed and search for some wire cutters before he had to get back to Tony. They would make their move when the supply truck arrived – no one else was going to get to touch Tony if he could do anything to stop it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee stormed off the elevator and stalked to his desk, rummaging in a drawer before pulling out an MIT sweatshirt that he quickly tugged over the tight white t-shirt he was wearing.

Ziva, Fornell, and Sacks followed him into the bullpen.

"I do not know why you are so angry, McGee. You always say that Tony gets to do all the undercover work, and now that you have an opportunity you are mad. It does not make any sense." She threw her hands in the air.

"You smacked me, Ziva. And kept me sitting in the floor for hours. You wouldn't let me look up, speak, or even go to the bathroom. Yeah, I'm kind of pissed right now." His voice had taken on the higher pitch that indicated his frustration.

"I thought you were a submissive?" she asked, confused. "This kind of dynamic should not be unknown to you."

"I might be submissive, Ziva, but I'm not usually submissive to _you. _You're my partner, not my Dom," he spouted, struggling to remove the collar around his neck, yanking at the buckle with no success at working it loose.

Ziva moved her hands to help, but caught Fornell's eyes, which indicated she shouldn't touch him. She lowered her hands to her sides.

Abby came running into the room, her pigtails bouncing as she jogged easily in her black and white chucks. Black and white striped knee-high socks, black skirt, and a Hello Kitty shirt completed the ensemble. "Timmy, I've been so worried about you!" She immediately started unbuckling the collar on his neck, and he sighed when she removed it.

"Thanks, Abs." She grinned ecstatically.

"I'm here to help." She moved on to releasing the cuffs at his wrists. "So what now?" the Goth asked.

"Now Agent David meets with her contact to discuss how he can help her find the perfect slave, since this one obviously isn't working out," the FBI agent answered. McGee glared at him and Fornell smiled. "No hard feelings, Agent McGee, at least your discomfort is helping to make the role believable. When Ziva cuts you loose, no one will suspect a thing."

"Somehow I don't think that's a compliment," McGee muttered.

Abby rubbed his arm. "Don't listen to him, Tim. Just remember this is to help Gibbs and Tony. You'll do anything to find them, right?"

He stared hard at Ziva before letting his shoulders slump in defeat. "Yeah, Abby, I'll do what I have to. Sorry, Ziva, I don't know why I'm so tense."

"It is alright, we have all been under a lot of stress." she replied softly. "I will try not to hurt you when we return tomorrow."

"I'll try not to be so sensitive. I know you're just playing the part."

"Do I need to pass around tissues?" Fornell asked sarcastically, earning glares from the NCIS team. "Stay focused. Tomorrow night might be our only chance to break this case." He turned and walked away, stopping to look back at them. "If this doesn't work, we might never see DiNozzo or Gibbs again."

Sacks gave a sympathetic stare and hastened after his boss.

None of the friends spoke, Fornell's parting words saying enough for them all.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

When Gibbs entered the hallway leading to the training room, he broke into a run. There was no mistaking the sounds of an altercation coming from the open doorway at the end of the corridor; muffled yelling and cursing echoed in his ears.

"Stay the fuck back!" someone shouted; Tony's voice was unmistakable and it spurred him forward, feet hitting the floor heavily as he ran.

The door stood wide; Gibbs instinctively reached for his weapon before realizing it wasn't there. He stepped inside only to be stopped short by the chaotic scene.

Several trainers and slaves stood on one side of the room forming a ring of spectators. The door of the cage hung open, and a man lay on the floor near it, hands covering his head as he shook and cried. Angry red welts, some of them oozing blood, covered his entire back, butt, and thighs.

Tony stood in front of the keening slave, holding a bullwhip like Indiana Jones ready to take on every Nazi in Germany. His eyes burned brightly with rage, his jaw clenched tightly in determination.

A long thin line of crimson blood split Steve's left cheek, marring the otherwise rugged features. Drops of red trailed after him as he stalked DiNozzo, shotgun held firmly in his hands. Gibbs considered running forward and throwing himself in front of Tony to shield him from whatever Steve had in mind, but DiNozzo didn't give him the chance.

Tony flicked the bullwhip, lips curling slightly at the satisfying snap it made when it landed near Steve's feet. The trainer didn't flinch, continuing to circle DiNozzo like a big game hunter who had finally trapped his prey.

"I think you need a matching scar on the other cheek," Tony taunted, perfect lips twisted into a sneer. "I believe you'd like the symmetry." He unfurled the whip again, the tip snapping mere inches from making contact with Steve's unblemished right cheek.

Steve snarled, jerking his head out of the way in the nick of time. "Crack jokes all you want, princess. I'm trying to decide if my first shot is going to take out your knee or your friend's limp dick."

Tony stepped back toward the crying man protectively. "Leave him alone – you've already beaten him, isn't that enough?"

Steve was sweating, and his eyes were glazed. His laughter sounded hollow, inhuman. "Hardly. And when I'm done with him, I'm going to make sure you get your turn, you annoying piece of shit. I don't care how much you bring in at auction, it's not worth putting up with your crap." A muscle in his jaw twitched, and Gibbs sensed he was preparing to do something stupid.

Steve had moved closer to DiNozzo and the cowering form, taking aim at the prone figure with his weapon. Tony raised the whip and struck, the end landing on Steve's forearm where it left behind a deep gash. The man screamed and dropped his gun, which landed on the floor and erupted in an ear-splitting crack. There was another higher-pitched scream, and the boy on the floor started writhing, hands covering the hole in his stomach that was surrounded by bright red blood.

"What the hell is going on here?" Rick yelled, joining the melee. Gibbs put out an arm and stopped him from running straight into the bedlam.

Tony dropped the bullwhip and rushed to the injured slave's side, frantically trying to stem the flow of blood with his hands.

"He's dying! Do something!" he implored the silent crowd, his green eyes shining brightly with fear and outrage.

Steve stood and rushed toward Tony, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him away from the bleeding slave. Tony struggled, knocking Steve backward so he stumbled off balance and fell over a spanking bench. Several other trainers moved in and took hold of Tony's arms, gripping firmly so he couldn't escape. Another raised his weapon, keeping his sight firmly aimed on Tony.

"DiNozzo, calm down," Gibbs demanded, moving next to his senior field agent. If Tony didn't stop fighting he was going to end up dead or worse.

"No! Steve beat him for no other reason than he couldn't get hard. That's crazy! Everything here is fucking insane!" His normally soft, smooth voice cracked with anxiety.

Rick strode to the now still slave and knelt next to the brown-haired young man, doing a cursory examination. He gestured to several other trainers. "Get him to the infirmary. We'll see if anything can be done for him." The men carefully lifted the bloody victim, who bucked and screamed again before going boneless in their arms. He was carried across the room and out the door, leaving behind a spreading puddle of thick red blood expanding on the floor.

Steve had regained his footing and pushed his way past Gibbs to grab Tony, pulling him to the other side of the room. "Don't think your playmate is going to keep you from being punished. Your ass is going to pay for meddling in matters that don't concern you."

It took a few seconds for Gibbs to realize where Steve was headed. He was taking Tony straight toward the fucking machine. DiNozzo must have figured it out at about the same time, because his body went rigid and he threw a punch at Steve, catching the trainer in the eye.

Steve cursed, and the other trainers once again rushed in to subdue the raging federal agent.

"Strap him down!" Steve demanded. The men moved to comply, but it was difficult with Tony writhing and thrashing like a wild animal. "Hold him down, damnit!"

Something in Gibbs erupted at the sight of Tony being dragged around like a piece of meat. When he caught a flash of green eyes, he saw complete fear and desperation. No one was going to do this to his boy, no one was going to hurt him while Gibbs could still move. They shoved Tony down on all fours, trying to position him to attach his cuffs to the rings on the machine.

Without any awareness, the lead agent found he had moved across the floor directly behind Steve. The urge to protect what belonged to him was primal.

"Leroy! What are you doing?" Rick's voice barely penetrated the angry cloud that enveloped his mind and he chose to ignore the sound.

When he wrapped his arm around Steve's neck and squeezed, killing the man was the only coherent thought he had left.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Notes: **_Sorry it's taken so long to post this; I've been incredibly busy with work and my graduate class. I would've liked more time to revise this chapter, but my schedule isn't going to get any better so I might as well just post it :-) Thanks for your wonderful responses last chapter! I don't know if this is where you thought things would go next, but be assured _there will be a_ _happy ending_ and the end of their time at the camp is getting close! (And don't be too mad at Gibbs, his heart is in the right place).

**WARNING: **BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash. Very kinky things lie ahead. If this offends you, do not read.

**Chapter 15**

Steve gurgled and wheezed as Gibbs continued to strangle him; the trainer scrabbled his fingers against the unrelenting forearm locked around his neck. Tony looked up from his position on the floor to witness stark hatred burning a pale fire in the blue eyes he knew so well. He'd seen them blaze this way a few other times – after Kate died, when children were at risk – but never when it involved him. He was amazed, entranced, and scared to death. Gibbs was about to murder Steve because of him, and even if his tormentor was dead, it didn't mean that he and Gibbs would get out of this nightmare safely. More than likely they would both be executed and tossed to the bottom of the lake. This was all his fault, and he had no idea what to do to stop it.

Gibbs tightened his grip and Steve's eyes bulged like they were going to pop out of his head. "What the hell makes you think you can touch him like that?" he whispered in Steve's ear.

Steve gasped for air. "Doesn't….belong….to you," he spat out defiantly.

That statement just made the former marine squeeze harder and Steve began to thrash, his feet kicking at Gibbs' shins as he struggled to break free.

"Boss," Tony called out, trying to salvage the situation as fear for Gibbs overrode any fear he had for himself. The guards had moved in closer and were pointing their weapons right at the lead agent. "Don't kill him…I'm ok." He really wasn't ok, he was about as far from ok as he could get, but he wouldn't let Gibbs get shot for his dumbass mistake. He licked his lips and tried again to steady his voice and speak louder. "Let him…let him go."

Rick stalked up and placed a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "Let's talk this out," he said calmly. "So no one else gets hurt." Several long seconds passed as Gibbs weighed up Rick's words. Steve quit struggling, waiting for a choice to be made. Tony glanced over his shoulder, silently pleading with his eyes for Gibbs' to listen. The former marine abruptly let go of his victim, who sputtered and stumbled away while the guards stepped back and lowered their weapons, some of the thick tension draining out of the charged atmosphere.

"He tried to kill me!" Steve stated the obvious, rubbing the rapidly forming bruise on his neck. "He fucking tried to kill me!"

Gibbs' lip curled. "That was a sleeper hold, you moron. All it would have done is knock you out so we wouldn't have to listen to your idiotic mouth."

_More like the sleep of death, _Tony thought, grateful Gibbs seemed to have come back to reality even though he would've liked nothing more than to watch the former gunnery sergeant squash Steve like a worthless bug.

The sadistic trainer massaged his neck and glared at Gibbs, his entire head tomato red from the exertion. His nostrils flared and he surged toward Gibbs, ready to start the fight all over again.

"Hey!" Rick cried, stepping between the two men. "Stop it! This situation is bad enough without you two killing each other. Now get a grip." He placed both hands flat on Steve's chest and shoved the man back, where he sulked like a wounded animal circling for another attack.

"Would anyone care to explain what happened here?" Rick asked, barely containing his fury as he glared at each Dom in turn. "Because as far as I can tell this is a complete cluster fuck."

Steve took the opportunity to share his version of events. "I'll tell you what the hell happened; you asked me to have that other slave, Mark, ready by the auction and I wanted to give him some extra attention. Well, the bastard came without permission. I used the whip to teach him a lesson about how to show respect for his master." He glanced at Tony. "Your golden boy here started pitching a fit, banging into the bars of the cage until I thought he was going to knock himself senseless. I had Josh get him out before he hurt himself. We barely had the gag off him before he went crazy – grabbed Josh's whip off his belt and set himself up to avenge Mark's whipping." Steve ran fingers gingerly over the blood crusted wound on his cheek. "He lashed me on the face and I'm not going to let that go. He has to be punished; I don't care what Leroy has to say about it."

Rick dispassionately glanced at Tony who was restrained on all fours at the fucking machine. He was shaking from the surge of adrenaline and from the possibility of having a dildo rammed up his ass over and over again; the hard rubber tip was already pressing against his hole. Despite his fear, he refused to look at Rick or beg for mercy. If this was his consequence he would try his best to take it; he wished Mark hadn't been shot, but in his heart he knew he couldn't just watch Steve nearly kill the guy and do nothing. He had to try and help. It was why he'd become a cop in the first place.

Gibbs spoke up, his voice like a splash of icy water. "I'll punish him."

Steve laughed and faced Rick. "You aren't going to continue supporting this, are you? This guy nearly killed me for touching a slave that belongs to us!" He faced Gibbs. "What'll you do, spank him into a mind blowing orgasm? I don't think so. This requires a real punishment and I intend to be the one to hand it out."

Gibbs folded his arms and addressed Rick. "Steve's so pissed off he'll kill the boy. That's why I was trying to take him down before he did any permanent damage to a slave that needs to be in decent shape to sell in a few weeks."

Rick ran a hand through his hair, conflicted by the decision. "Steve's right about one thing, this behavior has to be dealt with severely, Leroy. I don't know if you can handle it."

"I understand," Gibbs stated, not looking at Tony who was actually starting to worry. What kind of punishment were they talking about? Would Gibbs really let them go through with using this medieval torture device on him? He glanced over his shoulder at the menacing structure and shuddered, determined not to show his concern but unsure if he could withstand it.

"However," Gibbs continued; voice calm and clear. "I don't think it makes sense to use fucking as a punishment when that's what we're trying to train him to do. You want him to like to fuck, not freak out every time someone gets near his hole."

The owner mulled that over, smoothing the back of his hair absently, grey eyes revealing nothing. "Point taken, Leroy. The fucking machine is out as a punishment. So what do you have in mind?"

The entire conversation taking place like he wasn't even around reminded Tony of being a kid in a room full of adults. He thought about offering some suggestions, but decided Gibbs was working too hard to literally get his ass out of trouble, and he wouldn't make it any worse. So he bit his tongue and stayed quiet.

He could hear movement and muffled words, but the direction he was facing made it impossible to figure out what was going on. The lack of information was driving him crazy and his muscles were starting to twitch from the uncomfortable position. The dildo poked at him whenever he made the slightest adjustment. Finally, Rick spoke again.

"I think that would be acceptable."

Steve grunted. "Let me do it, Rick. I'm the one he attacked."

There was another long pause. "No, you're too upset. We still need him in one piece for the auction. We're already down a slave and there's no way in hell I'm going to lose the profit on two. Go to the infirmary and check on Mark and get your face cleaned up. I'll stay here and make sure the punishment is carried out effectively."

Steve's bushy eyebrows knitted together, and he clearly didn't like the idea, but after an internal debate he acquiesced to Rick's leadership. He stopped next to Gibbs on his way out of the room. "This isn't over," he threatened before his heavy footsteps receded away. Tony was pleased with the small victory since he was confident that Gibbs had figured out a way to inflict a punishment without really punishing him at all.

He jerked when Gibbs appeared next to his shoulder and leaned down to unfasten his cuffs from the machine. Tony met his blue eyes, deciding it was time to break a rule. "Sorry, Boss," he whispered. "I didn't think I had a choice."

Gibbs stopped moving and studied him for a while, his face a stoic mask. "Neither do I." He continued with his work and hooked a hand under Tony's armpit to pull him to his feet. Tony tried to read something in his face, to find some sign that everything was going to be alright, but there was nothing. The expression was flat and closed.

Gibbs prodded Tony to the center of the room. One arm was lifted and attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling, his second arm followed. A spreader bar was handed to Gibbs by Rick; it was attached to a ring in the floor and each of his ankles was locked in place. If Gibbs hadn't been the one doing this, Tony would have been terrified. He was in a position of abject vulnerability, completely at the mercy of the men in charge. But Gibbs would take care of him; Tony trusted that fundamentally.

He turned his head to try and follow Gibbs' movements, not able to make out anything much. Gibbs came to stand in front of him, gravely serious. Tony watched him and swallowed nervously. Something was wrong. His muscles contracted involuntarily, and he jerked in his bonds. His stomach fluttered and the warmth drained from his body until he felt as cold and lifeless as one of Ducky's corpses. To his amazement, some quality in Gibbs' blank stare appealed to his dick, which perked up some. If his hands had been free he would have swatted it down because now was definitely not the right time. As it was, all he could do was hang there and try not to tremble while Gibbs took measure of him.

Finally, Gibbs' hands moved and for the first time Tony noticed he was holding something. It looked like a ball of soft black leather. Tony glanced from the material in Gibbs' hands to the older man's face. Gibbs sighed, and for a flash Tony witnessed his facade momentarily slip and his features soften, but the steel veneer quickly snapped back into place.

The former marine brushed his lips with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be afraid," he said gruffly. Tony tried to formulate a response but he didn't have time before Gibbs pulled a hood over his head, stealing his vision and filling his nose with the smell of leather. Buckles were tightened and it was snug against his skin in an instant.

"What?" His voice was muffled, strained. He tossed his head from side to side. What the hell was Gibbs doing? He couldn't breathe – Gibbs knew he was afraid of suffocating. He sensed tiny holes near his nose, and drew in stuffy air, but it was barely enough to keep him from panicking. There was something cold on his lips and he felt a rush of air as a zipper opened letting oxygen in.

"Just breathe."

"I can't, there isn't enough air – please, Boss, don't do this….." he pleaded, no longer caring if he looked weak or not. He couldn't stand this. This was worse than anything else they could have done to him.

"Yes you can – there are holes to let air in. Stay calm and you'll be fine." Gibbs' voice was steady and reassuring. He stroked his hand up and down Tony's arms, calming him. He placed a hand on the center of Tony's chest, careful to avoid the newly pierced nipple. "In and out, boy, you're doing fine. Trust me."

"I do…I trust you….I just…." He stammered, struggling to articulate his overwhelming feelings as he was consumed by the pitch black surrounding him. It was like being trapped in a never ending night, and sweat was already dribbling down the sides of his cheeks.

"Open your mouth, pet," Gibbs requested gently, tapping his lips.

"What….why?" Tony's heart pounded against his chest like a piston, afraid of what Gibbs was planning next.

"I'm going to gag you again."

Tony's anxiety exploded into sheer terror. "No, Boss…..no, not while I can't see or breathe….you can't….." His voice cracked and the pitch was several octaves higher than normal. He guessed Rick and the other trainers were getting a good laugh at his expense, but it didn't matter. Gibbs had to understand he couldn't endure this. The fucking machine was starting to look like a viable alternative. He wrapped his hands around the chains attached to the cuffs and closed his eyes despite the fact he couldn't see.

"I'll be right next to you every second. This isn't your choice boy; it's your punishment, and it has to be uncomfortable or it won't work."

Tony made a strangling sound and then he felt hard rubber against his lips, and tasted the bitter gag as it was forced into his mouth. It wasn't like the other gags; this one was long and broad and nearly made contact with his tonsils. His throat convulsed and he feared he might vomit as it was strapped into place. He swayed; the chains the only thing keeping him balanced.

"Steady," Gibbs said, resting firm hands on Tony's shoulders. "Your only job is to take what I hand out. Give in to it, stop fighting and it will be much easier. Just like the spanking."

The spanking. That had been incredible, erotic, liberating. He tried to think about what it felt like to be held in place by Gibbs, to be at his mercy, to fully trust in his ability to do what was right and keep him safe.

He was with Gibbs. Everything would be alright.

Gibbs would never intentionally hurt him. The older man understood him inside and out.

The lead agent had come here to save him; put his own life on the line for his sorry hide. No one else would have done that; no friend, no ex-lover, not even his own damn father.

But why? Why had Gibbs gone to such extreme measures to help him? What could have prompted such a tremendous act of loyalty?

Tony wasn't a marine, or family, or even a boyfriend. He was a coworker, a sometimes friend, a potential lover….

_Lover._

He thought about the look in Gibbs' eyes when the former gunnery sergeant had seen him again for the first time; recalled the expression on his face when they were making out in the forest like a couple of horny teenagers. The jealous possessiveness Gibbs displayed whenever Steve or anyone else came near him.

_Lover._

Was it possible? Had it been right in front of him all this time and he'd been too wrapped up in his own insecurities to see it? Now, with his vision obscured, everything was illuminated as clear as a bright morning sun.

Gibbs loved him.

Maybe not Shannon epic soul mate love, but love nonetheless. It was the kind of long simmering love that burns your soul and leaves your heart a pile of smoldering ashes; the kind of love that won't be ignored no matter how many times you try to run away from it.

To Mexico.

Into the arms of a woman.

To a ship a thousand miles away at sea.

The clarity of the realization washed over him and swept away so many of the fears and doubts he'd carried around for a lifetime.

Chained, gagged, blind, naked – he was as safe with Gibbs as a baby in its mother's arms.

He wanted to tell Gibbs what he had figured out, but it was impossible. The only way he could communicate his understanding was to give Gibbs something the older man wouldn't necessarily expect.

His complete submission. Not a half-hearted attempt, but everything he had inside him, one hundred percent and without question.

The rough hand that he recognized as Gibbs' wrapped around his cock, and he felt the sensitive member start to grow. He expected the hand to continue stroking him, but instead it was removed, replaced by the unanticipated sensation of buttery leather and cool metal sliding over his dick. He tried to ask what was happening, forgetting that he couldn't speak, reminded when only an unintelligible sound came out.

Gibbs rubbed his hip, calloused fingertips tracing circles over his skin. Tony leaned into the touch.

"Good boy," Gibbs acknowledged.

The praise was reminiscent of the positive reinforcement given to a housebroken puppy, but he didn't focus on that. He clung to the fact Gibbs approved of his reaction. That didn't, however, completely remove his concern over what was being done to his dick. The thing being put on him was tight and uncomfortable, encasing his penis completely, until finally Gibbs snapped a cock ring around the base next to his balls. He groaned his displeasure and heard Gibbs respond with a dark chuckle.

"You won't be coming anytime soon – consider it part of the punishment." Gibbs' hand drifted over his straining cock. "It's a chastity device called a Gates of Hell. You'll get used to it."

Tony's mind raced through his extensive viewing of pornographic movies, dirty magazines, and pay by the minute websites, until he came up with a mental picture of the device wrapped around his penis like a boa constrictor. He groaned again.

"Maybe it will help remind you of who's in charge here. Because it certainly isn't you."

_No, definitely not me, _Tony agreed mentally.

He felt the brush of something soft over his shoulders, down his spine, across the crack of his ass. He shivered and tried to draw his legs together, but the spreader bar kept them firmly in place. He desperately wanted to know what Gibbs planned to do next, and the fact he couldn't anticipate the upcoming move made him kind of crazy.

He got his answer all too soon. A flogger thudded against his back, the leathery cords fanning out to caress his flesh in a slightly painful embrace. He jerked like a fish on a hook and crushed an instinctive desire to flinch away. That would not be the submissive thing to do. Instead he tried to open his back up even more, accepting the punishment Gibbs chose to give him. God only knew what Steve would have done if it were left up to him. This punishment implemented by Gibbs would be within the boundaries of his endurance; he knew that Gibbs' would make certain he wasn't harmed.

The flogger continued to sear its way down his back; nipping and biting repeatedly until it settled into a punishing rhythm of blows that vacillated somewhere between pleasure and pain. He rode the crest of it, barely holding on to rational thought as the sensations scorched his flesh. Once more he felt his connection to Gibbs build and grow until he didn't know where his throbbing body ended and Gibbs' began.

"Trust me, Tony, you're still not there yet."

The words coursed over him like a gentle breeze.

_I do. I will. I always have. _

As his mind and body gave up any shreds of fight that were left, he experienced his second epiphany of the evening.

He loved Gibbs, too.

Letting go of the denial he had clung to for years set him free, and suddenly he was flying, his mind buzzing in perfect harmony with the flogger that no longer hurt at all, simply reminded him of what he felt for Gibbs. He could stay this way all night, riding the current of his newly discovered love.

It was with a pang of bittersweet disappointment that he realized the blows were slowing, lessening in intensity, before stopping altogether. He sighed, a peaceful euphoria thrumming in his veins.

A hand tilted his chin and cupped his jaw. "You finally get it."

Tony couldn't reply, so he nuzzled his face against the calloused palm.

He drifted, not fully aware of what was happening, everything muffled and quiet. Cold lube against his hole brought him to a greater level of awareness, but it wasn't enough to worry him. He belonged to Gibbs, so anything the other man did was perfectly acceptable. It was more than acceptable; it made him happy.

A large rubber plug pressed inside him, burning until his body began to adjust to the intrusion. Tony found himself wishing it was something warm and more personal. A strap connected the base of the plug to the cock ring, and another wider piece of leather covered his crack and attached to a belt buckled on his waist, locking everything snugly in place. He wondered if he should be embarrassed to wear this contraption, but the thought was fleeting, dissipating when Gibbs squeezed his butt cheek and gave him a quick tap, reminding him that it wasn't his decision anyway.

With precise efficiency, Tony's wrists were released and brought down to his sides where they were attached to rings on the side of the belt. His legs were detached from the spreader bar, and Gibbs helped him find his footing.

"You ok? Nod if you're steady."

Tony still felt woozy and disoriented, but he didn't want to displease Gibbs so he shook his head affirmatively.

"Good." Something clicked on the collar circling his neck, and Gibbs gave a tug. "Walk, slowly and carefully. I'll guide you."

He had no choice but to move forward when Gibbs did, the inability to see throwing him totally off balance. Gibbs walked slowly, allowing him plenty of time to keep up, but the out of control feeling was frightening. The only thing keeping him calm was that Gibbs held the end of the leash, and Gibbs would take care of him.

A few minutes later Gibbs stopped, and Tony heard a door shut behind them. "Kneel," he ordered. It wasn't easy for Tony to do with his arms restricted, his dick trapped, and a plug in his ass, but he managed to fall to his knees with minimal discomfort. He could hear Gibbs talking, but what he was saying didn't seem all that important.

Tony zoned out, his mind floating in a foggy mist, reveling in the feel of Gibbs' hand stroking his head, his neck, his shoulder. His back, ass, and upper thighs were on fire from the flogging, but the feeling reminded him of Gibbs' attention and he decided it was worth it. His boss' presence wrapped him in a warm cocoon of safety, despite not being able to see through the confining leather mask. His cock stirred, but did little more than pulse against the bindings that encased it. Eventually he lay his cheek against Gibbs' warm thigh and nearly fell asleep, more content than he'd ever been in his life. He wanted to stay like this forever, safe at the end of Gibbs' leash with nothing more on his mind than following Gibbs' next command.

He had found what he had never even known he was looking for.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee trembled nervously, his eyes completely focused on Ziva. He had never really questioned his submissive nature, almost glad when he had taken Sawyer's test and confirmed his status. It made life easier because he didn't have to try and pretend to be something he wasn't, and everyone else became more accepting that his personality traits weren't signs of weakness, but were instead just an extension of his innate make-up.

He'd dated some since then, going out with dominant women who were attracted to his natural willingness to follow their command. But even during those brief relationships, he had never fully embraced the lifestyle. Letting his date decide where they would eat and order his food was a lot different than sitting in the floor wearing only a black leather thong with the spiked heal of a boot resting on his thigh like one was right now. Pretending to be half scared out of his wits hadn't been much of a stretch when getting into character for the undercover assignment; he'd faced down killers with less anxiety than he felt at the moment.

It wasn't like Ziva would actually hurt him; he trusted her and knew that she was in complete control of the situation. It was all the intangibles that concerned him; he played out the possibilities like he was running a query on a computer program.

The slave trader might suspect something; Ziva might be forced to prove her sadistic kinks; someone might recognize one of them. The possible scenarios rolled over and over in his mind and he couldn't get them to stop.

It was only the reminder that his current position of servitude might help Tony and Gibbs that gave him the fortitude to not stand up and walk straight out of the bar and not look back.

Unfortunately, he was discovering that he liked some of the scene a lot more than he would have ever predicted and that shocked and upset him. His head involuntarily jerked and he glanced at Ziva, sitting quietly with a drink in one hand and a small riding crop in the other. He wasn't attracted to Ziva, not at all, but the situation – being owned, being on display, being at the end of a leash – those aspects of the assignment excited him more than he thought possible. There was a difference between submissiveness and slavery and if you had asked him last week he would've easily answered that he didn't really care for bondage, being naked in public was mortifying, he had no tolerance for pain, and discipline wasn't much of a turn on for him. Now…..he was going to have to do some serious reevaluation of his preferences, since they were changing by the minute.

He wasn't exactly prepared to do this level of soul searching while his boss and partner were missing and he was undercover.

Ziva tapped him with her foot, providing the pre-arranged signal that it was time to move their plan forward.

"Is that the best you can do?" Ziva asked, somewhat louder than necessary, inviting the looks of several patrons in the bar. "I bought you to be a pleasure slave, not to sit around and pout all the time."

"I'm…I'm sorry, Mistress," he answered haltingly, reaching out to touch her thigh. "I'm trying to do what you want." He slouched in defeat, attempting to use his body to convey his lack of confidence.

"Well, it is not working." She shoved him with her foot, laughing when he sprawled on his butt several feet away. "I tire of you – you provide me with no challenge, no excitement. Leave."

McGee scrunched his face in bewilderment. "Where should I go, Mistress?"

Ziva stared at her nails dispassionately and bobbed her foot. "I do not care where you go as long as it is away from me. Now do as I say before I am forced to show you my displeasure." She unhooked the collar around his neck and tossed it on the floor.

McGee struggled to his feet and stood awkwardly. Cautiously he walked toward the door, glancing frequently over his shoulder as if to see whether she had changed her mind.

Ziva ignored his existence.

Once he had left the club and was outside, he wrapped his uncovered arms around his naked chest and let his eyes dart around in search of the van. He spotted it and jogged over, wincing as his bare feet came in contact with sharp rocks and pebbles. The door swung open and he hopped inside, gratefully accepting the blanket held by Sacks and the cup of coffee offered by Fornell.

"Thank God that's over," he sighed, sipping from the cup as he huddled down in a seat.

Fornell's flinty eyes pinned him in place. "Just think how DiNozzo must feel; he doesn't know if it will ever be over."

McGee looked away, inexplicably ashamed at his own selfish attitude; Fornell and Tony could barely stand each other, yet the agent was the one thinking about his friend's situation. "Yeah," he said sheepishly.

The FBI agent had already turned away and was watching the monitor. The man from last night approached Ziva and talked to her for a few minutes before sitting down. The exchange occurred in silence, since Fornell and Sacks were using headphones. McGee had to settle for trying to read lips and body language.

Ziva tossed her head back and laughed, a devilish smile on her lips as she said something and smirked, waving her hand dismissively in the direction of the door he had just exited. Her companion smiled in return, talking animatedly. He stopped occasionally as she asked questions, the lines on their faces indicating the conversation had turned more serious.

They talked for nearly thirty minutes before he took her hand and kissed it, paid his tab, and walked away. Ziva waited patiently, making no move to leave until Sacks said, "Alright, he's pulled out of the parking lot. It's clear."

Ziva picked up her purse and jacket, nodded to the bartender, and within a few minutes had taken a seat next to them in the van.

"Well? It sounds like you have him convinced you're legitimate." Fornell stated. "Get this guy to commit to selling you a slave this weekend and we'll have cause to bring him in, see what we can find out about our boys."

Ziva scowled. "I do not like that we will have to wait so much longer. It is frustrating to have made so little progress. When we finally break these people, I am not going to have any patience left."

"I agree, David. But we're closer than we've been since this started. A few more days, that's all. At least McGee can put his clothes back on now." Sacks laughed and Fornell grinned. Tim turned a shade of pink that would have been perfect in a little girl's room. He tugged the blanket tighter around his mostly nude body.

"Next time you can be the sub, Fornell," he snapped testily. "See how you like it."

"Oh, now, don't get pissy," the FBI agent cajoled. "You've done a damn good job and so has Ziva. If we do get a lead on this bunch of jackasses, it'll be because of you two. But come on, I have to tease you a little. In DiNutso's honor."

It took a few seconds, but Tim eventually let a small smile sneak out. "For Tony," he agreed. The senior field agent would have been unable to control himself; he would have sensed McGee's awkwardness like a dog smells fear. It wouldn't have been anything malicious; the joking was just Tony's way. Tim had to admit he missed it.

Fornell took a small silver flask out of his suit coat pocket. He held it up in salute. "For Tony." He hesitated for a second before raising the flask again in another toast. "And that damn romantic Gibbs. Let's hope he's managed to find his boy."

Ziva and Sacks nodded agreement, ready to take whatever steps necessary to find out what had happened to DiNozzo, and hopefully Gibbs, too.

McGee hugged himself and wondered if they would get back the same two people who had left. For some reason, he doubted it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs tried not to react too much to the solid weight of Tony pressed against his thigh. The constant connection was starting to get to him; the sight of DiNozzo naked, collared, leashed, bound, and leaning next to him like a content submissive was driving him out of his mind. His dick was so hard it felt like a bar of steel in his pants – he hadn't been this aroused since the first week he dated Shannon. None of his other wives or girlfriends – not even the occasional boyfriend – had ever gotten him this worked up.

He wanted Tony so much it was going to require monumental effort to maintain control with him. Especially if Tony had dropped like Gibbs suspected he had. It didn't matter, though; he had to make sure that nothing happened between them while Tony wasn't entirely capable of making rational decisions. It wouldn't be fair and as a Dom it was up to him to look out for Tony. He swallowed a sigh and set his features into the indifferent expression expected of him and tried to focus on what Rick was saying, all the time letting his hand rest gently on the nape of Tony's neck.

They both needed the physical touch, especially Tony since he still was unable to see or speak.

Someone knocked on the door; Steve and Josh entered at Rick's permission. Steve glanced down at Tony and licked his lips. Gibbs didn't like the conflicting messages the man gave out regarding DiNozzo – one minute he hated him and the next his coal eyes were so blown with lust Gibbs half expected him to grab Tony and try to rape him over the desk. He wrapped his hand in DiNozzo's leash and narrowed his eyes. Steve saw the challenge and stared him down.

Josh shifted his weight nervously. The kid appeared to want nothing more than to head for the hills and never come back. His eyes were wide and he chewed the corner of his lip. His hands and shirt still had flecks of dried blood on them from the earlier incident.

"So? How is Mark?" Rick's mouth formed a grim line.

Steve cleared his throat nervously. "He's dead. Bled out before the doc could do anything." He cocked his head to the side, let his eyes flick back at Gibbs accusingly and took a deep breath. "It's that damn DiNozzo – everything was fine until we brought him here and he just keeps causing trouble…"

Rick leaned forward and slammed a fist on his desk. Tony jerked and Gibbs ran a hand down his spine to reassure him.

"This is our fault, not DiNozzo's! We are the ones who are supposed to be in charge here, not the subs. Whatever problem you've got with this boy, work it out – do you understand me?" he fumed.

Steve held his chin up and refused to reply. Josh stared at the floor. Rick settled back in his chair and ran a hand through his graying hair. "Go deal with the body." Neither man moved immediately. "Now!"

The muscled trainer's jaw clenched; he spoke in a low growl. "I'll discuss this situation with you in private. There are some issues around here that I won't tolerate any longer." Steve managed to give Gibbs and DiNozzo a stare that would have incinerated them both on the spot if he'd had the ability. Gibbs just responded with a crooked smile. This man was going to be a problem very, very soon. They had to get out of here as quickly as possible.

The walkie-talkie on Rick's waist squawked as the door clicked behind the trainers. "You have a call," a tinny voice explained. "Be right there," Rick answered; he gazed at Gibbs stonily. "Take him back to your room. Make sure he understands that the kind of behavior he displayed this evening will not be allowed. I don't want to have to beat the willfulness out of him, but he's leaving me no choice. He's almost to the point of not being worth all the aggravation."

"I'll take care of it," Gibbs agreed, rising to his feet and pulling Tony up behind him.

"And Gibbs," Rick added. "I can't keep Steve away from you forever. He's got it in for you now, and don't think he'll forget what happened. Watch your step with him."

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself," Gibbs commented dismissively before he walked out the door without looking back, grateful to be free from Rick's scrutiny for awhile. It took less than ten minutes to move through the corridors and arrive back at their room. Gibbs felt like they were entering a sanctuary; he desperately needed the opportunity to figure out what to do next.

Tony stood in the center of the room, his leather covered head bowed. Gibbs' felt his heart lurch in his chest. What was he going to do with his beautiful, hopelessly confused senior field agent? He fought the urge to wrap his arms around his boy and hold him close.

Instead he went around the room and collected several items, coming back to find Tony hadn't moved a muscle. He smiled wistfully at the exhibition of submissive self-control and his stomach flipped at the irresistibility of it. "I'm going to take these things off you, ok?" He placed his hand on the back of Tony's head, waiting until he felt a slight nod.

With a gentle touch, he unbuckled and pulled the gag from Tony's mouth, laying it on a towel on the bed. He then released the bindings on the hood and peeled it from Tony's face.

DiNozzo blinked like a newborn kitten trying to remove the sleep from its eyes. His green gaze was dilated and unfocused, and he didn't say a word. Gibbs picked up a washcloth from a small bowl on the nightstand and wiped the sweat and dried tears from Tony's face. Tony didn't protest while Gibbs washed him, eventually running the cloth through his sub's matted hair. He placed a palm on the side of Tony's face when he was finished.

"Are you ok?" he asked, somewhat disconcerted by Tony's silent gaze on him.

"Ye…" Tony cleared his dry throat. "Yeah."

"Here." Gibbs grabbed a glass of water off the table and held it to Tony's lips, allowing him a few sips. "Better?"

Tony nodded, following Gibbs' movements without further comment.

"Are you ready to get the rest of this off?"

Tony's lips parted slightly. "If that's what you want."

The answer surprised the older man. He'd never seen Tony so far down. His agent might not realize it, but he was very vulnerable in this condition and it sent a surge of protectiveness through Gibbs.

The open, unguarded Tony was incredibly tempting. His eyes shone like emeralds, sparkling with every touch Gibbs made.

He took a cleansing breath through his nose. Nothing was going to happen. He would get Tony undressed and put him to bed. That was all.

His first move was to unbuckle the wrist restraints. He rubbed the inside of Tony's wrists once they were free, concerned when he could feel Tony's pulse racing in his veins. He waited until DiNozzo's heartbeat slowed some before continuing.

Next he unstrapped the waist buckle, before carefully gripping the end of the butt plug. "Push out," he reminded his charge. "This might hurt some."

Tony obeyed, gasping involuntarily when the plug popped free. Gibbs finished taking off the belt, leaving only the Gates of Hell in place. He stared at it for a few minutes, before making an abrupt decision.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Tony hesitated before nodding.

Gibbs took his hand and led him to the toilet. "You can piss through it. Go ahead."

The lead agent turned around until he heard the splash of liquid. When he was sure Tony had finished, he faced the younger man again.

"Leave it on for now." Tony didn't argue, his green eyes continuing to shine brightly. Gibbs had never seen Tony look like this and he had no idea what his agent was thinking. Tony was good at hiding from most people, but not from Gibbs; however that didn't stand true at the moment, since this was a path neither of them had been down with the other before and there was a hint of uncertainty for them both.

"Come on," he said, leading Tony back to the bedroom. He cleared the items off the bed and pulled back the covers. "Lay down on your stomach."

Tony followed the request, settling on his front and turning his face expectantly toward Gibbs'.

Gibbs studied his boy, checking the redness of his back and butt from the flogging, satisfied there were no significant injuries despite some marks and bruising. It would be sore for a while, but the punishment would leave no lasting damage. He collected some cream and settled on the bed behind DiNozzo, moving his legs apart for better access. With long, soothing strokes, he applied the lotion to Tony's flushed back, pleased when the younger man sighed under his ministrations.

He worked his way along Tony's shoulders, his lats, down his back, onto his ass. No inch of flesh was left untouched. When he was finished, Tony had virtually melted into the mattress.

But still, DiNozzo said nothing and Gibbs wasn't sure what to make of it. He followed his instincts and did what he knew how to do best; stay in control and take care of his sub. He followed his gut, which rarely led him wrong.

Gibbs tapped the boy's hip. "Lift up," he encouraged, wanting to do everything he could to make things right for Tony. It was sweet that DiNozzo scrambled just as quickly to raise his ass in the air as he did to grab his gear in the squad room. All that was missing was an, "On your six, Boss.

He took a few minutes to inspect Tony's hole; the butt plug had been in a long time and had dried out some, but he was happy to find the area pink and healthy with no signs of tearing. As he traced a finger over the sensitive skin, Tony moaned and pushed back.

Gibbs stopped cold. He and Tony had played outside in the woods, had touched each other, but had never gone this far. This was a higher level that he swore to himself to avoid. It was a trap neither of them could afford to get caught in.

But Tony was groaning, and pushing backward to try and gain more contact. "No, Tony," Gibbs whispered, despite letting his finger stay where it was. "Not now, not like this."

For the first time Tony turned and looked over his shoulder. "Boss….please."

Sweat broke out on Gibbs' forehead. Tony looked so…wanton and slightly desperate. DiNozzo licked his lips until they glistened. Moonlight streamed through the window, broken shadows played over tawny skin. A single golden beam illuminated Tony's face like a subdued spotlight, adding an ethereal shimmer to his green eyes and pink lips. His lids weighed heavily, nearly closed, and his eyelashes fluttered dark against his pale skin.

A clap of thunder echoed through the stillness, followed by the patter of rain against the windowpane accentuating the otherworldly aura surrounding them.

"Let me show you how I feel," Tony pleaded softly without blinking, his eyes sparkling pools. Lightening flashed, bathing his naked form in its iridescent glow.

Gibbs knew he should be strong and say no, cover Tony in a warm blanket, and soothe him to sleep. But not even he was that strong. Nakamura would have traded his entire fortune to have Tony sprawled in front of him, offering his body like a pagan sacrifice. The battle was lost from the moment Tony said please.

He leaned over to the nightstand and picked up the lube, popping the top and squeezing a generous amount on his hand. He turned back to Tony. "Are you sure?" It was one last chance for refusal, one last opportunity for confirmation.

DiNozzo didn't falter. "I want you. I think I've always wanted you." If there had been misgivings before, there was no doubt in his voice now.

Closing down on further thought, Gibbs gave in to the lust and desire he'd repressed for years, using one hand to flip Tony carefully on his back. He raised Tony's hips and shoved a pillow under his butt. "I want to see your face," he explained. "I want to see those perfect lips when you scream my name as you cum."

Tony's breath hitched while the green in his eyes turned to tiny slivers surrounding cavernous black pupils. He silently watched as Gibbs efficiently stripped off his clothes, tossing them in an untidy heap in the floor.

Prowling up the length of DiNozzo's body, Gibbs kissed his hips, reveling in the musky smell of the other man's arousal, trailed his tongue toward Tony's naval, sucked at his unpierced nipple. Tony's head fell back, exposing the long line of his neck. Gibbs attacked the juncture, nibbling the skin until he'd left his mark behind and the man underneath him groaned heavily. He took Tony's hands in his and pushed them over his head, pinning them to the bed. Although he was sensitive to Tony's issues with being submissive, he couldn't change his own personality – in bed he was sexually dominant, and that was a part of his nature he couldn't deny under any circumstance. If they were going to be together, Tony would have to accept and come to terms with that.

The way DiNozzo arched his straining dick against his stomach, Gibbs didn't think it was going to be as much of a problem as he had expected. Gibbs kissed his way up Tony's neck, along his jawline, and caught his lips with his own. He melded himself into Tony, his tongue plundering DiNozzo's mouth repeatedly. Tony ground against him harder, the younger man's frantic thrusts taking on a rhythmic pulsing like he was trying to douse a fire burning in his groin.

When Gibbs broke the kiss, Tony whined pathetically.

"That's just the start," Gibbs promised, giving Tony's hands a squeeze. "Don't move."

Tony left his arms above his head while Gibbs trailed down his body, nipping along the way, enjoying the soft mewling sound that Tony was making.

"Like that?" he asked. "You'll like this better." He loosened the Gates of Hell from around Tony's balls, unsnapped the cock ring, and gently threaded Tony's dick out of its leather bindings. The soft flesh in his hand quickly came to life, throbbing and growing by the second until it was a thick hardened rod. With a flick of his tongue, Gibbs licked up one side of Tony's cock, then took the head fully into his mouth.

"Oh….oh that's just….." Tony's eyes were closed and he seemed lost in a wave of pleasure.

Gibbs sucked down on the rock solid shaft a few times, letting his tongue caress the bulging veins.

"No cumming without permission, remember?" he reminded his partner, who was gripping the sheets in tightened fists.

Tony's eyes popped open and he took a deep steadying breath, clearly willing himself to obey the order.

Gibbs took his slick hand and wrapped it around his own dick, sliding it up and down until the entire member was wet and ready. He settled in front of Tony, whose chest heaved up and down rapidly. Another crash of thunder pealed through the air, followed by a crack of lightening and the howl of wind. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging in his own heart – the moment stretched out between them, until Gibbs could stand it no longer. He leaned in, letting his cock press against Tony's hole; he didn't take his eyes off Tony, whose nostrils flared as his breathing deepened in anticipation. Gibbs lowered himself onto Tony's chest, bringing his face within inches of his sub.

He rocked forward, his dick entering the tight channel; Tony made a slight strangling sound. Gibbs continued to move into the clenching opening, letting it grip each inch of his erection as he ever so slowly pushed his way deep inside for the first time. Tony's eyes grew wider and his mouth opened soundlessly; he shifted his hands to grip Gibbs' shoulders like an anchor and he raised his legs to allow Gibbs to sink down even more. Another flash of lightening reflected in Tony's eyes. With the ring of muscle breached, Gibbs realized he had gone balls' deep into the other man. Beads of sweat stood out on Tony's skin, as he panted harshly and shifted his weight, eyelashes fluttering at the small change in position.

"You ok?" Gibbs whispered, trying not to break the reverence of the moment.

"Yes," Tony answered huskily. "Hell yes."

Gibbs chuckled, placing a long dry kiss on Tony's lips. "I'm going to fuck you into the mattress, boy. Think you can handle that?" It was a threat, a challenge, and a vow rolled into one.

"Stop teasing and do it," Tony replied, eyes now half closed.

Gibbs took him at his word and withdrew, slamming back in to an accompanied shout from his partner. Gibbs did it again and again, setting up an unrelenting rhythm of sensations. All the while he taunted Tony's mouth, kissing, biting, and licking the beautiful lips that he'd only dreamed about for so long.

Tony let his legs fall to each side, opening up his body to take every inch Gibbs had to offer. It was incredible, like they were made to fit each other perfectly. Gibbs lost the ability to think coherently, only able to feel the hot warmth encircling his cock, pulling him in over and over. Tony had degenerated into one long, incoherent moan that rose and fell in pitch with each thrust from Gibbs' dick. His ass lifted off the bed to meet Gibbs' movements, his thigh muscles quivering from the exertion.

"Boss….," Tony muttered. "You feel so good….so fucking good."

Gibbs grasped Tony's hands in his own, their fingers curling together. He let his stomach rub against Tony's raging hard on, providing friction.

"Can't hold on," Tony said, shaking his head. "Can't hold….Gibbs, oh Gibbs….Gibbs….Gibbs." He chanted repeatedly. "Please! I need to cum now! Please!"

Gibbs thrust a few more times, feeling his balls tighten and tingle, the orgasm building inside him like a raging inferno of fiery lust. He tossed his head back and shouted, spasms shooting through his groin while his cum pulsed out in stream after stream. He gripped Tony's hands fervently, linking them together until they were joined completely, shaking when his dick finally stopped exploding.

Pulling a hand free he stroked down Tony's cock, feeling it turn imperceptibly harder, until DiNozzo was screaming like a madman and clutching at his arms so hard the nails bit into his skin. "Boss! Oh fuck Boss!" Thick white strands of semen spurted out from Tony's shaft, spraying both his and Gibbs' bellies with the warm liquid. Tony loosened his grip and fell back against the pillows, panting. Gibbs dropped down on him, not caring that he was lying in a puddle of cum that dripped in rivulets over the sides of Tony's stomach. He couldn't move; his entire body a dead weight, exhausted, sated, and happy. He let his head rest on Tony's chest, aware enough to avoid the nipple ring, and drifted into a hazy sleep, lulled by the steady tapping of rain against the window and the breathing of the man who was now totally and completely his.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony awoke briefly to the sound of thunder and patter of raindrops. He didn't mind that his stomach was covered in rapidly cooling cum, or that the heavy weight of another person pressed against his body, effectively pinning him in place on the mattress.

All that mattered was that inches beneath his own nose, Gibbs slept soundly with his head on Tony's chest, looking as peaceful and content as Tony had ever seen him. Tentatively DiNozzo lifted a hand to the silver hair and touched the soft strands that had fascinated him for so long. Growing braver when Gibbs didn't wake, he stroked his fingers through the short silky mane, letting it drift against his palm. He still couldn't believe they had made love—is that what it was? Or was it just sex?

It had felt like more; it had felt like the most beautiful thing he'd ever done. He looked at Gibbs again and tears pricked the back of his eyes, welling up without warning. What if this never happened again? What if this was the only time he ever got to feel this way – safe, protected, _whole_.

Wendy, Jeanne, all the one night stands and short term relationships, none of them had ever come close to awakening this sense of completeness he felt nestled beneath the man he had coveted since the first time he'd laid eyes on him.

He could admit that to himself now, in the dim and quiet room where the silence was broken only by the far off rumble of the storm and the measured breathing of Gibbs. Everything in his life had shifted off-kilter like the aftermath of an earthquake, and the opening had revealed truths that he couldn't deny any longer.

Time seemed to stretch like a gossamer thread, and he passed it by memorizing every line on the weathered face he knew better than any other, but had never had the luxury of studying in anything more than glances. He drank in the dark grey eyebrows, the fine lines around the eyes, the aquiline nose. The lips, slightly parted, that only a short time ago had mapped every inch of his body and drove him mad with their teasing. He let his long fingers trace the smooth, firm jawline that revealed the strength and character which were a part of Gibbs' core. Tony scarcely took a breath of his own, so as not to disturb the delicate moment that might be the first of many nights exploring their love, or the last time he would ever rest so peacefully again.

He was finally lulled back to sleep by the rain, the thunder, and the steady rise and fall of Gibbs' chest.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs slipped carefully from the bed so as not to disturb Tony; the young man snuffled and turned on his side, pillowing a hand under his head before settling back down to sleep.

He watched Tony, slightly mesmerized by his long, thick lashes and plump firm mouth. Carefully he ran a hand over the tousled spikes of hair letting his fingers sink into the thick strands. In sleep, Tony appeared entirely without guile, like an innocent, trusting child. Gibbs withdrew his hand and clenched it into a fist at his side. What had he done? Tony wasn't himself, he wasn't in command of his own mind with all the conditioning he'd endured over the last few weeks. It had been Gibbs' job to protect him, to prevent any harm from coming to him.

But that was impossible when the monster was sleeping in the same bed.

He had taken advantage of Tony, used his subordinate's vulnerability to achieve his own sexual satisfaction. Before he was kidnapped, Tony had never shown an inkling of interest in moving their relationship to this level, and Gibbs should have respected that and held it sacrosanct. Instead, he had been no better than Steve, Rick or even that piece of shit Zeke who'd abused Tony as a child. It was his responsibility to say no, and he had failed miserably.

Moving through the dark room, he fumbled his way to the chair and lowered himself down heavily, leaning his head in his hands before closing his eyes to block out the reminder of his inadequacy. There had to be something he could do to make this right; some way to fix the horrible mess he'd allowed this to become. Tony mumbled in his sleep but didn't wake, blissfully unaware of the turmoil cleaving at Gibbs' soul and tearing it to shreds.

All the years he had spent ensuring the professional and personal lines were never blurred had been for nothing; he had lost any semblance of control and it was unforgiveable. Tony had given him his faith, his loyalty, his submission, and Gibbs had taken those gifts without any regard for Tony's current state of mind.

They had to get out of this place, they had to escape before Tony lost any more of himself to the wants and desires of others, himself included. Because now that he knew what it would be like to have Tony in his bed every night, it was going to be a thousand times harder to ignore his overwhelming need for the younger man. A part of him wanted to take Tony again tonight, to exert his claim on DiNozzo's body and mind so that his agent would never question who owned him. But that wouldn't be right, it wouldn't be fair.

The night wore on, and Gibbs wondered if by morning Tony would be able to forgive him, or if he would ever forgive himself.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Notes: **_Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews! I was really nervous when I started posting this story, and almost decided not to post at all, but your responses have been so supportive it makes me very glad I did.

I apologize for the mistake in the previous chapter; I had Rick refer to Gibbs as "Gibbs" and not "Leroy." I told you I didn't have time to edit!

For those of you wanting escape – things go wild next chapter. Someone is coming to visit the camp – any guesses who?

WARNING: BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash, kink. Not interested in these topics, please don't read!

**Chapter 16**

McGee let his eyes flick around the bullpen, taking in the anxious behavior of his friends and co-workers. Ziva sat behind her desk with her chin resting on her hand, tapping a pencil and staring blankly at her computer monitor. Fornell lounged behind Gibbs' desk, feet propped on the corner, hands clasped across his stomach with his eyes closed. McGee couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but he seriously doubted the FBI agent was actually doing anything more than dozing. Sacks had found a chair from an empty desk and pulled it over; he had it tilted back and his head rested on the partition next to Gibbs' desk. His eyes were open, and they were locked on Abby, who sat behind Tony's desk as she muttered softly to herself and performed some type of…ritual.

Over the years Tim had learned that sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions where Abby was concerned. He loved her dearly, but after spending the night in her coffin even he had to admit that she had some eccentricities. Currently her obsession was voodoo, and she was completely convinced that all of Madam Maison's suggestions should be followed immediately in order to ensure Tony and Gibbs safe return. Which explained why she was chanting in French Creole and breathing in the noxious fumes from the small ceramic pot filled with a concoction of herbs, strange liquids, and he suspected some hair pulled off of the comb from Tony's file cabinet and a drop or two of bourbon from the flask in the bottom drawer of Gibbs' desk.

Her voice rose in volume and she picked up a rattle that looked like it could have been made from a bone and waved it over the bowl; Sacks' eyes grew wider at her movements.

McGee shook his head and continued monitoring for any hits on Ziva's fake identification.

The elevator doors opened and Palmer paced out followed by Ducky; the two of them stopped in front of Abby.

"Any luck?" the Scot burred hopefully, wringing his hands anxiously.

Abby paused in her ceremony and popped open one bright green eye. "I can feel it working, just like Madam Maison said. Something's going to happen soon." She shut her eye and continued the incantation.

Sacks opened his mouth as if to say something, but McGee shot him a warning glance. The Fed snapped his jaw closed and continued to watch warily.

"This is ridiculous!" Ziva exploded, throwing down her pencil and standing up abruptly. "We are sitting here like bumps on a dog!"

"Log…." Tim corrected. "Bumps on a log. And we just got a hit on your fake background." He raised his head to look at her. "Seems like someone is interested in the life and times of Ziva Hadar."

Abby glanced at him and her chanting grew even louder. Ducky cocked an eyebrow. Sacks dropped the legs of his chair back onto the floor. Fornell cracked an eye open.

The Goth scientist stood, raising her hands in the air as her words sped up. Several passing employees slowed down and gawked at the spectacle, but didn't linger when Ziva shot daggers at them with her dark brown eyes.

McGee prayed that Vance didn't show up any time soon.

No one moved, all of them captivated by the intensity of Abby's ritual. The scene might have gone on longer, except that Ziva's cell phone started ringing. The Israeli stared down at it as it vibrated on her desk.

Tim realized it wasn't her work phone, but the one they had activated for her undercover persona.

Abby's hypnotic recitation reached a fever pitch and then suddenly stopped, plunging the room into silence. She stared at Ziva expectantly. "Answer it," she demanded, pointing a finger at the phone.

Ziva blinked and followed the command. "Hello. Yes – you are very perceptive. I am definitely interested in the type of companion you describe. What do I have to do to participate?" She paused. "Of course. I will see you tomorrow."

She ended the call and placed the phone back on her desk. "Well?" Fornell asked, standing up, very wide awake.

"I am to meet the contact tomorrow to discuss my attendance at a slave auction. If all goes well, I will be given information for how to enter the event."

Fornell nodded. "That's good. Real good. We might catch a break on this case yet."

"Of course you will!" Abby exclaimed, and they all turned to look at her. She waved her hand over the potion on Tony's desk, tendrils of aromatic smoke curling into the air, swirling into lazy patterns as she passed her fingers through it. "Madam Maison said we were due for good luck, and here it is! I'm so excited!" She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down before stopping to frown. "But we might need this again." She picked up the foul smelling concoction and eased into Tony's top desk drawer before shutting it tightly.

McGee made a face. It was sure to smell worse than Tony's sweaty tube socks after trying to run down a suspect. Especially if it was in there very long. Actually, he had been subjected to Tony's tube socks after they had been lying in a drawer for a few weeks, and maybe Abby's mixture wouldn't be quite that bad. He smiled to himself. For the first time he felt a little bit of hope that maybe Tony might actually make it back.

He'd be happy to get him home, sweaty socks and all.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

When Tony woke again the first thing he noticed was the lack of sound; the rain and thunder must have passed by leaving the night still and quiet. A chill ran across his naked skin and he shifted over, reaching his hand out to find Gibbs' warm body to snuggle up against and drive the cold away.

All his hand discovered was empty space and frigid sheets.

He levered up on an elbow and searched around, trying to figure out where Gibbs had gone. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a shadowed form seated in a chair across the room, and as his vision cleared he could see the other man was slouching with his legs crossed and his chin resting on his hand. Gibbs stared at Tony without moving.

"Boss? What are you doing?" The figure didn't respond, and Tony tried to repress a shiver that raised goosebumps on his flesh. Something wasn't right.

He snagged the sheet and wrapped it around his shoulders to ward off the crisp air, and slid from the bed, padding over to where Gibbs sat. Without thinking, Tony knelt in the floor by his knees and looked up warily.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

Pale blue eyes flicked toward him, and Tony felt a stab in his stomach when he realized the intense sadness that Gibbs couldn't hide in the opaque depths. His stomach churned.

"Did I do something wrong?" Tony tried to hide the note of desperation that edged his voice, but he knew it was still there.

Gibbs pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. "No, Tony, you didn't do anything wrong. I did."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked. "Are you talking about earlier? Do you regret it already? I thought…" He couldn't finish the sentence, it was so pathetic. _I thought you loved me._

Gibbs didn't seem to be paying attention. "I used you, Tony; I took advantage of you. Of course I regret that."

Tony shook his head and rose up on his knees. "Are you crazy? That was…..we were….I wanted it to happen. How can you say you took advantage of me?"

Gibbs smiled crookedly. "Do you have any idea what happened earlier?"

Tony considered the statement before answering. "I know what happened." A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. _I gave you everything inside me._

The older man licked his lips and leaned forward, gazing intently into Tony's eyes. "What we did was special, and it mattered, but you can't tell me this place hasn't affected you. I want you to submit to me because it's of your own free will, not because you've been conditioned to it by being here."

Tony sank back down on his heels, wishing there was a way to get Gibbs to understand. He knew, beyond any doubt, that he had fully and completely wanted to be with Gibbs and he would never, ever regret the decision to submit to him. "You didn't force me; I chose. Don't twist everything around like this."

"You've never had your senses completely deprived before; don't downplay your response to the experience. Plus, you'd just watched a man get tortured and shot; no one would be thinking rationally after that," Gibbs said softly, unwilling to see Tony's position.

DiNozzo was growing increasingly frustrated. "Don't treat me like a child, Boss. I know I got Mark killed." He felt self-loathing bubble up inside him. "I should have stayed out of it."

Gibbs grabbed Tony's face gently with both hands. "You should have stayed out of it – but it doesn't mean what happened to that man was your fault. These people are insane, Tony, and you can't forget that. You're lucky they didn't kill you, too. You have to stop baiting them; I can only protect you so far."

Tony sighed, letting his cheek rest against Gibbs' flat palm. It felt so good to have the older man touching him; he wasn't sure how he had managed to survive without it. "I'm sorry; I was trying to help."

"I know." Gibbs brushed Tony's hair back then let his hand drop. "But it isn't worth getting yourself hurt. I couldn't live with that. Right now the only thing you need to think about is not doing anything that would make them want to punish you again." Gibbs sat back and breathed in deeply through his nose, letting the air out slowly.

Tony could see the tension in the former sniper's tightly wound body, but he couldn't let the earlier comment go. "So do you really think what we did tonight was a mistake? I don't know how you can think that." Tony wasn't sure he really wanted to find out what was going on in Gibbs' head, but he couldn't ignore it. What had happened between them had been incredible, and Tony couldn't accept that Gibbs hadn't felt it, too.

"Tony," Gibbs began. "You were so far down tonight I could have done anything I wanted and you wouldn't have stopped me. I knew that, and I should have respected the fact you weren't making sound decisions. It was wrong of me to coerce you like that."

Tony's eyes knitted into a confused frown. "I'm telling you I knew what I was doing!" He tried not to shout, but he was getting angry. "Didn't it mean anything to you?"

Gibbs' hand clenched the arm of the chair. "You were in subspace, Tony," he said forcefully. "It happens to submissives sometimes when they're….in sync with a Dom. You weren't thinking straight."

Tony let his mind drift back over the events of the previous evening. Yes, he had felt different, hazy, kind of out of it. But it was a good feeling, and it didn't prevent him from being aware of what was going on around him. If that was subspace, he guessed he'd been missing out by fighting everyone around him about being submissive. "I'm telling you Gibbs, it was what I wanted to do," he reiterated. "I'm glad it happened, but I don't guess you are."

Tony folded his arms and stared defiantly at Gibbs, who continued to frown at him. Finally, the other man spoke.

"This place is messing with your head, DiNozzo. If anything is going to develop between us it has to be when you aren't influenced by everything going on here. I won't lose control like that again." He stood and held his hand out, ending the conversation. "Let's go back to bed."

Tony stared at the outstretched palm, knowing there would be no more sleep for him tonight. He lifted his eyes up to the man he had given his entire soul to and wondered what he'd been thinking. There would no happy ending, no romantic declarations of forever and always. Gibbs would wear his guilt like a shroud and push Tony away "for his own good."

"Now, Tony. We have no idea what tomorrow has in store for us and we need to rest while we can." Gibbs' managed to muster up a half-hearted smile and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, everything's going to be alright. I'm going to protect you."

Mindlessly Tony allowed Gibbs to help him to his feet and lead him to bed. He sank down and felt Gibbs' weight dip into the mattress behind him.

DiNozzo pulled the sheet tightly around his frozen body and hugged himself, unable to fight back the cold that gripped his heart. Even the strong arm that curled around his shoulders wasn't enough to thaw the icy ball of disappointment that had settled deep inside his stomach.

They had to get away from here before Gibbs decided he was too damaged to ever try to love.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs opened the door at the first tentative knock, propping it open so Josh could deliver the coffee that had become part of his morning ritual. The kid sat the cups and pastries on the table and stood there, shifting back and forth and staring at his shoes.

"You wanna say something?" Gibbs asked.

Josh swallowed hard. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday; Mark was a nice guy. He didn't deserve to die like that."

"Nope." Gibbs picked up his cup and took a sip, letting the hot liquid burn a fiery trail down his throat. He could wait and drink his first cup when they were all having breakfast in the dining area, but that would take too long. He needed this initial jolt of caffeine to get him going. With a shrug he glared at the nervous boy. "Anything else?"

"I'm afraid the same thing is going to happen to him." He gestured at Tony, who lay sprawled face down on the bed, the sheet the only thing covering his ass from full view. Gibbs was trying to let DiNozzo sleep as long as possible; he was certain it had only been a few hours ago when Tony finally relaxed and dozed off. It had been a long night for both of them.

"Would that bother you?" Gibbs tried to get to the bottom of Josh's agitation.

"Are you kidding me? This whole situation bothers me! I don't know how much longer I can stand it!"

Tony fidgeted and rolled over, his long arm flopping across his stomach. The sheet somehow managed to stay strategically in place.

Josh rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. "Sorry. You don't seem like the rest of them…." His eyes darted around the room. "I should go."

Gibbs stepped in front of the kid. "Do you really think your Uncle will let you walk away from this and never look back? With all that you know about him? After witnessing a murder?"

Josh's eyes grew wide. "He can't keep me here. I have to go back to school…." He blinked several times and his shoulders slumped in defeat and acceptance of his fate. "I'm screwed."

Gibbs took another sip of coffee. He was taking a chance, but his gut insisted the boy wasn't bad, just stuck in a situation he had underestimated and couldn't get out of on his own.

"I could help you," Gibbs said calmly.

Josh goggled at him. "How?" Comprehension spread across his young face. "You aren't going to let them auction him, are you? Are you going to try and escape?" He shook his head. "That's crazy; you'd never get out of here. You'll both end up dead."

"Maybe," Gibbs agreed. "But that doesn't mean we aren't going to try."

Josh bit his lip. "Will you take me with you?"

Gibbs took a deep breath and hoped he was making the right decision. It was a big risk to trust this kid he barely knew, but they had to do something. "It depends on whether or not you can help us."

The boy grinned impishly. "Just tell me what to do."

Gibbs filled him in on what he'd accomplished so far, including the several bags of supplies he'd managed to put together yesterday and hide near the fence. They only needed to know when the electricity would be cut off again and how to get their hands on some wire cutters.

"Supplies will be delivered at the end of the week," Josh explained. "The electric fence will be down for several hours. I'll make sure to have the wire cutters ready; I don't think I'll have a problem getting into the shed where they're kept. You think we can make it through the forest? It could take days before we make it into a town and the nights are getting pretty cold this time of year."

"We'll make it," Gibbs answered. "Just be ready and don't say anything. I'll talk to you again in a few days."

Josh nodded solemnly as Gibbs herded him out the door. When he turned around Tony was sitting up watching him.

"Do you think that was a smart move?" his senior field agent questioned.

"We've got to have help if we're going to get out of here. I managed to pack some water, blankets, and clothes for you, but I couldn't get into the tool shed for the wire cutters. We don't have a lot of options without him."

Tony rubbed his hair and let out a huff of air. "He seems ok; I hope nothing spooks him between now and the end of the week. He's awfully skittish."

"I can't say I blame him." Gibbs glanced at his watch. "Time to get moving."

"Yeah, right." Tony scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, hesitating. "About last night…."

Gibbs didn't want to get into that conversation right now. They needed to get out of here before they could talk about anything serious, so he cut Tony off. "We'll discuss it later, when we have more time. Turn around and let me take a look at your back."

Tony's eyes flashed with frustration but he complied, holding himself stiffly while Gibbs inspected the red welts left over from the punishment. The marks were raised and puffy, but the skin was unbroken. "How does it feel?"

DiNozzo shrugged dismissively. "Hurts, but not too bad. Listen, Boss," he tried again. "I think we need to talk. You've got things all wrong…"

Gibbs shook his head. "This isn't the time, Tony. Hit the shower; you've got about ten minutes before I need you back out here."

Tony's gaze closed off, quickly becoming unreadable. It was a look Gibbs was entirely familiar with, and confirmation of why Tony wasn't anywhere near ready to determine he was a sub. "Fine," he muttered, stalking into the bathroom.

It was not going to be a pleasant day. Tony was apparently going to push and wheedle him at every turn. Gibbs mentally prepared himself for the assault, resolved not to give in to the demands. Even he had to admit last night had been incredible, but his mind was made up and nothing more was going to happen between them until he delivered Tony safely back home.

Gibbs spent the next few minutes gathering supplies and laying them on the bed. When DiNozzo exited the bathroom scrubbing a towel over his wet hair, Gibbs pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. "Over here."

Tony's eyes narrowed; he tossed the towel behind him and sauntered to the area where Gibbs indicated, his sharp green eyes noticing the items on the bed. "What's that for?"

_Here we go._ "You're going to wear it again today."

Tony laughed skeptically. "I don't think so; it isn't very comfortable and the color doesn't match my eyes. Why do you want me to anyway?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Does it matter? I thought you were ready to submit to me."

DiNozzo didn't have an immediate response, opening his mouth in shock before finding words to spit back. "Yeah, it matters. Would you want to walk around all day trussed up in that….contraption?" He gestured at the offending item with disgust.

Gibbs took a step closer to him. "Last night you were ready to kneel by my feet and do anything I asked. What's changed?"

"You have. You made it perfectly clear you made a mistake by being with me. That changes everything." Tony didn't drop his gaze, and Gibbs couldn't help but admire the steel in his tone, despite the defiance in it. "And I'm not wearing that."

Before Tony could move a muscle, Gibbs flipped him around and hooked the cuffs on his wrists together behind his back, eliciting a startled protest from the younger man.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Gibbs picked up the Gates of Hell and the cock ring, settling them in place with barely a glance at his subordinate.

"I'm making sure Steve doesn't get a chance to rape you the next time you run that smart-ass mouth of yours." He finished snapping the device on Tony's cock and balls and reached for the butt plug. With a firm hand he pushed Tony over the bed so his ass was raised in the air. "You must have noticed the way he looks at you – like he can't decide if he wants to beat you with his fists or with his dick."

Tony was squirming to move away, but Gibbs used a hand to hold him flat.

"I don't care!" Tony protested. "What the hell gives you the right to do this to me?"

Gibbs smacked Tony's ass, leaving a red imprint. "Hold still! I'm doing what any good Dom would for his sub; I'm taking care of you when you don't have the sense to do it yourself!"

Tony tried to rise up but Gibbs shoved his head into the mattress. "You aren't my Dom, remember? So quit acting like it! If you don't want to fuck my ass then you sure as hell don't need to stick anything else in it!"

Gibbs pushed Tony's legs apart with his own thighs and drizzled lube all over the butt plug, letting it drip over Tony's hole. "Push back and relax."

With a deft touch he eased the plug inside Tony, trying to ignore how his own dick got hard when Tony clenched and gasped around the black rubber. Memories of last night flooded his vision and he pushed them away. He seated the plug and then proceeded to add the straps and waist belt. At this point Tony had stopped struggling, his hazel eyes blinking rapidly while his chest shuddered up and down from the exertion. Gibbs pulled a small padlock from his pocket and snapped it in place, ensuring the device could not be removed by anybody but him. He dangled the small key in front of Tony before dropping it in his pocket.

Tony's eyes blazed, anger winning the battle over arousal. "Bastard," Tony snarled.

"And don't you forget it," Gibbs agreed harshly. Sometimes, being a bastard was all a man had to offer the ones he loved, no matter how much it hurt to do.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick sat down behind the desk in the communications building and picked up the phone. "So what do you have for me?"

"I've just lined up another potential buyer for the auction. She's looking for one of your types, a hard nosed cop or ex-marine to take down. Just letting you know so you can have something ready for her."

The slave trader smiled pleasantly. He was sure that DiNozzo would bring a good price from Nakamura, and he had at least four other prime pieces of flesh to market besides him, even with the fiasco that had happened with Mark. If he was lucky, this new buyer might even bid against Nakamura, driving the NCIS agent's price higher than he'd anticipated.

"Does she have the right kind of cash for this type of transaction?" He wanted to make sure she'd been vetted before getting his hopes up.

The man on the other end of the phone chuckled. "Her family is loaded; she came into an inheritance a few years back. I don't think money will be an issue. You have something appealing and I guarantee she'll buy."

The image of the island paradise Rick planned to purchase became a little bit clearer. "I'll make sure you get the usual finder's fee. I'll see you at the auction."

Rick hung up the phone; he couldn't believe how everything was falling into place. If the business kept growing at this rate by next year he would have enough money stashed away to disappear for good. He could still train a few slaves for market, but nothing on the scale they were working now. It would finally be time to relax and take it easy.

Stepping outside, he practically walked right into Josh, who was hurrying past with his head down, not paying any attention to what he was doing.

"Oh, sorry," the younger man apologized quickly, skirting around him.

"Slow down, Josh. Where are you headed in such a hurry?"

His nephew made a nervous gesture with his hand. "Nowhere – um breakfast."

Rick frowned, wondering about the kid's agitation. When he'd let the boy come up here he had hoped to nurture him into someone who could play a more pivotal role in the operation; unfortunately it was becoming more and more obvious that his sister's son didn't have much of a knack for the work. And now the kid had witnessed a death at their hands. It wouldn't be good for him to have a chance to go back home and reveal what he'd seen. Not good at all.

"I'll walk with you," Rick offered. He was going to have to keep a close eye on Josh and give some careful consideration about what to do with him before the start of the next semester of college.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Ziva took one last look in the mirrored compact before sliding it into the tiny purse at her side. Her lips were bright red, the outrageous color accentuating the rest of the outfit that Abby had painstakingly helped her put together. Her skirt was skin-tight black leather and very short paired with a low-cut lacy top that was nearly see-through. The ensemble was finished off with thigh-high black leather boots with stiletto heels that could have been registered as deadly weapons. Long gold earrings dangled from her ears, all the more noticeable because her thick curly hair was piled high on top of her head in a loose bun, soft tendrils hung seductively down her exposed back.

She stepped from the car and handed her keys to a valet, striding into the club without a second glance at the individuals who stopped in their tracks to stare at her. Inside she made her way through the dimly lit interior to a small table in the back where she sat down to wait.

A waiter in a loincloth brought her a drink she did not order as compliments of the house. She sipped the cocktail carefully, deciding there was little chance she would be poisoned. Yet.

Ziva adjusted one of the earrings, ensuring the miniscule camera hidden inside was positioned accurately to have a clear view of the man she was scheduled to meet. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. With a broad smile she greeted the tall, well-dressed man who approached her table.

"Ms. Hadar," he acknowledged, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "I'm thrilled to see you again."

"Likewise. Will you join me?" She gestured at the seat across from her.

"Thank you." He sat down and crossed his legs, tossing a hand casually across the back of the booth before flashing a toothy grin.

He had a slimy, used car salesman vibe that she did not like. Perhaps before the case was resolved she would find an opportunity to plant the heel of her hand into his nose. He was a slave dealer, and he made a living by subjugating other people, forcing them to lead lives they would never have chosen on their own.

The man smiled and leaned forward. "I think I have the perfect opportunity for you."

She forced herself to smile back, but inside her gut twisted into a tight knot. She hated him.

They discussed the auction and the amount of money required to secure a position in the bidding. Ziva provided a bank account number that she knew would have enough funds to cover the exorbitant fee. He called someone, read out the numbers, and waited for a response. Ziva continued to sip her drink and exude an aura of boredom with the entire procedure.

With another cheesy grin, the contact shut his phone and announced that she had been cleared to attend. Other particulars were reviewed, including how she would gain entry into the auction site.

"Someone will pick you up," he explained. "You will be taken to the airport and flown to our location. Another car will transport you to the venue and bring you back."

"What day and time?" she asked. "I will need to make plans to be out of town."

The man frowned, no longer joking around. "It will be one day next week; I can't get any more specific. Someone will call several hours in advance. You have to understand the need for secrecy – we cannot take any chance on our enterprise being discovered."

"I do not like having to place so much trust in those I do not know."

The slave trader shook his head. "Take the terms or forget it. This part of the game is non-negotiable."

Ziva drew in a deep breath and stopped arguing. "Fine."

"Wonderful!" he sat up straighter. "Do not forget that if you make a purchase arrangements must be made to take the slave out of the country immediately. We don't want to have them returning anywhere in the continental United States. It's too dangerous."

"I will take care of it," Ziva responded.

"Good." Her contact checked his watch. "I have a few more clients to meet tonight – of course none as beautiful as you. I'll be in touch."

She silently nodded at his departure, watching as he maneuvered through the crowd and found a stool at the bar. Finishing her drink, Ziva spent a few minutes observing the patrons of the club. Her attention was drawn to a couple on the far side of the room; the man sat quietly with his head in his mistresses lap as she stroked her fingers lightly through his thick brown hair. The spiky locks reminded her of Tony, and a pang of melancholy filled her unexpectedly. She had not been caught off guard by the feeling in a long time, since her first few years at NCIS, when just looking at Tony across the bullpen had sometimes taken her breath away. She had sectioned those emotions off, building a wall to hide them from everyone, including herself. She had accepted that there would never be anything between the two of them beyond friendship; it was easier that way. Even some of her bitterness at his cavalier attitude toward her had faded, and it made it possible for her to approach him with more kindness and affection than she had been able to achieve for many years. She wondered if he was being mistreated, and it made her ache, for Tony – her Tony – was like a puppy that never deserved abuse or neglect. In her heart she knew Gibbs was with him, making sure he was alright. The thought of them together brought her an odd sense of comfort.

After enough time had passed to not make her absence look curious, Ziva stood and worked her way across the room toward the exit.

It was just before she walked out the door that the entire operation unexpectedly came crashing down around her.

Nakamura strode into the room, nearly walking right into her. Instinctively Ziva backed away, but not before her eyes darted up to see his face. It took a few seconds, but she knew when recognition hit him and his features revealed the knowledge.

"You," he spit out. "You're one of them; I saw you at the NCIS office. What are you doing here?"

Ziva did her best to cover her surprise. "I have no idea what you are talking about." She ducked her head and edged around the small man who turned to follow her.

She scurried out into the cool night air as quickly as possible, the intense stare of Nakamura never leaving her until she was completely out of sight. Within seconds a car pulled up to the curb and she jumped inside, barely settling into the seat before they were moving.

She curled her hand into a fist, unable to meet the gazes of her colleagues. "Damnit," she cursed, striking her own leg in frustration. The entire operation was likely blown, and with it their only chance of finding Gibbs and Tony.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The day had unfolded like most of the others. They had breakfast, exercised, rested, and ate lunch. Now Gibbs was putting him through his paces, reviewing every position he was expected to assume as a docile and compliant sex slave.

He was barely able to make himself obey; if it had been anyone other than Gibbs giving the commands he would have fought like a caged tiger desperate to escape – the consequences be damned. But it was Gibbs, and even though his feelings regarding his boss were conflicted at the moment, it didn't change what seemed to be written into his genetic code. He followed Gibbs' orders like he always had.

Gibbs must have sensed the level of self-control it was requiring for him to react like it was natural for him to stand at attention with his arms behind his back, bend at the waist and grab his ankles, lean over a piece of furniture, or kneel with his forehead pressed to the floor. Of course Gibbs knew, he was Gibbs and he knew everything. That didn't mean that he gave Tony a break. Gibbs was as difficult a taskmaster as any of the Doms around him would expect.

Occasionally, Gibbs would give him a look that was a combination of dominant expectation and mild amusement that set his cock straining against its leather confines. The reaction made him want to scream; he was mad at Gibbs and had no intention of forgiving him any time soon, so his dick needed to get on board with his indifference and give up any hope of repeating last night. He still couldn't believe Gibbs had utterly dismissed their lovemaking like it was a huge mistake. Tony was aware enough of his own mind to know what he wanted. When they got back to their room this evening he had every intention of setting Gibbs straight and he wouldn't shut up until the older man listened.

Gibbs tapped his knees with a riding crop. "Farther apart," he drawled. Tony forced himself not to scowl at the order, instead moving his legs until they were past shoulder width apart. His hands rested on the wall, and he had his chin tilted down until it nearly touched his chest. He could see the glitter of the nipple ring glinting below him.

Unexpected rage flowed over him. What right did these people have to bring him here? What right did they have to force him to bend to their every whim? Just because they were dominant and he was submissive? Did they think he enjoyed being forced to do things against his will?

Suddenly Gibbs was near, breathing in his ear, his hard lean body pressed against Tony's back. "Stop fighting."

Tony bit his lip so hard he wondered if he'd drawn blood. How could he stop fighting? He stopped fighting last night, and all it had gotten him was a kick in the teeth. He'd been fighting his whole life in one way or another, and there was no way he could stop now. Maybe Gibbs didn't know him so well after all.

Gentle but firm hands traced the contours of the muscles in his arms.

"All this thinking isn't going to get you anywhere." A hand caressed the small of his back, trailed over his ass. Tony was almost glad for the chastity device; he figured there was no way he wouldn't have embarrassed himself with a raging hard on without it.

Steve entered their proximity. "I hate to admit it, but you have a way with pretty boy. I don't know how you do it."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's flesh, giving him a warning to cut off whatever reply was already forming in his throat. Tony bit his lip again and tried to let the words flow around him like water in a stream.

When Gibbs didn't respond Steve tilted his head. "He'll be going to auction next week and I guess you'll have to find another project. Just so you know, I always give each of our boys a nice going away present to remember me by; I don't plan to make an exception with this one." He let his cold dark eyes drift over Tony's body, pausing on his upturned ass. "Trust me; I plan on making it a night he won't forget." With one last leer he walked away.

Tony let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

Gibbs' face was impassive as granite; his hold on Tony's arm tightened possessively. "I'll die before I ever let him touch you."

The ferocity of Gibbs' words shocked Tony. The statement was a vow, a promise that Tony had no doubt the older man intended to keep. Fear gripped him with its skeletal fingers leaving an icy brand on his heart. His anger at Gibbs dissipated like early morning fog; he didn't pretend to understand his boss' reaction to their relationship, but he wouldn't let Gibbs die for him. Living with that kind of guilt wouldn't be a life at all.

There was so much he wanted to say. "Boss…." He broached tentatively.

Gibbs blinked, almost like awakening from a dream. He stroked Tony absently. "Don't break position," he said flatly.

"But…."

"No. I'll take care of this – we'll talk about it later tonight. Now stand up straight and we'll go through all the positions again. You get a whack for every one you forget."

Tony sighed. This was ridiculous. They planned on escaping; there was no need for Gibbs to take this training so seriously. Now that Steve had thrown down the gauntlet, it was even more imperative for them to make a break for it quickly, before Gibbs did anything rash.

His boss tried to act like he was the impetuous one who needed constant supervision, but it wasn't like Gibbs didn't have his own history of impulsive acts that had nearly led to his destruction. Tony's brain switched to auto-pilot while he followed Gibbs' commands; a sting on his backside brought him back to reality.

"Hey!"

"Pay attention, don't zone out."

Tony really wasn't in a submissive mind set right now. He opened his mouth to protest further until he noticed Steve observing them from a spot next to the St. Andrew's Cross. Tony sensed the brutish ogre was just waiting for him to melt down again and provide an opportunity to punish him. Well he certainly wasn't going to let that happen. With a clench of his jaw he swallowed his words and went back to doing as told. He wouldn't let his temper make the situation worse.

The door opened and Rick walked in, leaning down to have a whispered conversation with his partner. Steve's eyes widened and he said something quickly; Tony wished he'd learned to read lips so he could figure out what they were talking about with such ferocity. The two of them disappeared through the doorway, furrowed brows and tight shoulders indicating that their discussion was not entirely pleasant. Tony wondered if Josh could find out what it was all about and tell them later.

With any luck, whatever had them riled up wouldn't matter. Maybe in just a few more days he and Gibbs would be gone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"What the hell happened in there? Fornell demanded, his tiny round eyes narrowed on the young woman in the seat across from him. She shifted in frustration, tugging off the heavy gold earrings that contained the miniscule camera Abby had so carefully prepared for the assignment.

"You were watching; you know exactly what happened," she responded evenly, only her short, choppy movements giving away the fact she was angry. "I was identified."

"Do you think he knew who you were?" Sacks asked.

Ziva's dark brown eyes flashed, her temper flaring like a strike of lightening. "Maybe you were not listening, or you are simply dense. Yes, he knew who I was – he must have seen me when he came to NCIS to complain about Gibbs." She moved her shadowed gaze back to Fornell. "What do we do now?"

Fornell rubbed the top of his head; nothing seemed to go right on this case. They couldn't get a break for anything. "We wait, see if your contact calls. Maybe we'll get lucky and Nakamura won't say anything."

McGee sat up straight, inserting himself in the conversation for the first time. "Are you serious? The only person who talks more than Nakamura is Tony. He'll blab Ziva's identity to anyone who'll listen."

Fornell wished the kid would shut up; he was right of course, but it wasn't like the FBI agent wanted to acknowledge the reality of this latest fuck up. It meant that their one best chance to get to DiNozzo, and probably Gibbs, was gone and their slim chances of finding their friends had dropped to nothing.

"Is that it?" McGee pressed. "We just sit around and hope someone gets in touch?" He shook his head, and clenched his fist; for a minute Fornell thought he was about to punch something. "Gibbs and Tony wouldn't give up, that's for damn sure."

Fornell felt like he'd been hit in the gut. The kid was right again; neither one of the agents they were so worked up about finding would have ever stopped no matter what. Gibbs took the whole marine "never leave a man behind" motto to a level of sacred creed. And DiNozzo was nearly as bad, having modeled his every belief around those of his mentor.

McGee glared at him insolently, his normally soft features drawn and tight. Fornell realized why Gibbs kept the boy on his team; he really did have a dogmatic loyalty to his partners and his amiable attitude disappeared when they were threatened. Funny how sometimes you can see someone over and over and never really see them at all.

He cleared his throat and tried to focus his thoughts. "Tell me we have a tail on Nakamura."

"Of course we do," McGee offered. "We're tracking every move he makes. I"ll get Abby to pull up the information." He got out his phone and dialed.

Ziva had pursed her lips together like she'd been sucking on a lemon. "Do you think he will contact the people who took Tony?"

"It's possible," Fornell answered. "It's best to watch him; if our contact is lost he's our only hope left."

McGee hung up. "Abby's tracing him but right now he's still at the club. She'll alert us when he goes anywhere. We also have two agents parked outside ready to follow him."

Fornell let his fingers trace the leather seat of the limo. It was a good thing that sometimes cases allowed him to indulge in these kinds of luxuries or he'd never get to experience them. Too little pay; too much alimony. _Focus, Fornell. This is Gibbs' life you're playing around with. _The weight of that knowledge was a lot to bear. "What about his phone?"

"I can access that information when we get back to the office," McGee said, unable to hide the tension in his voice. He was practically bouncing in his seat, waiting to get back and do something. Fornell knew how he felt; he wondered if the young agent had anyone to lean on when the cases were too much, when the stress pushed him over the edge. He'd never heard any of them mention that Tim had a significant other. It would be so nice to have someone to unwind with, to share the burdens that came with knowing just how shitty life could be.

He pushed a button for the intercom. "Get us back to NCIS and make it fast."

Settling into the buttery soft seat he tried to accept the fact their best lead was for all intents and purposes gone. It didn't mean they had to give up hope, but it certainly meant everything got harder now.

Maybe it was time to join Abby in a voodoo spell after all.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The evening had passed by much like the morning; everything went according to routine, with no surprises or unexpected events. They ate dinner, Tony being handfed by Gibbs while seated in the floor. The only unusual element was the fact Gibbs hadn't released Tony's leash at any point in the meal; his boss had the end wrapped around his hand leaving Tony only a short amount of movement in any direction. He guessed Gibbs was sending a not so subtle message to Steve about who was in charge of him. Now that Tony was being honest with himself, he had to admit he kind of liked the show of dominance.

He wasn't really hungry, his unsettled stomach a reflection of his disquieted mind. The act of eating from Gibbs' fingers helped calm him, and he accepted it as another sign that he really was submissive. It was amazing how he'd ignored the signals for so long.

He was so grateful that Gibbs had shown up here to rescue him. The sacrifices his boss had made, the risks he had taken were not lost on Tony. The forced closeness and the intensity of their interactions had clarified his confused feelings about Gibbs, but his boss seemed to be caught up in a pointless sea of guilt. He had to convince Gibbs that his submissiveness was real and he wasn't suffering from some form of Stockholm Syndrome. It concerned him that Gibbs had gone back to being all business, barely saying two words to Tony that weren't absolutely necessary.

It made no sense. He knew what the two of them had shared had been real; how could Gibbs misinterpret it so completely? It explained a lot about those failed relationships. Shannon must have been one hell of a woman.

"Hey." The word caught his attention because it sounded like a command he shouldn't ignore; he felt a tug on his leash that nudged him closer to Gibbs. He snapped back to reality to see a carrot held out in front of him. God, he hated carrots, but he opened his mouth anyway. He'd tried to refuse the garden of vegetables Gibbs had been feeding him, but the glare that had resulted was so scathing Tony decided to save his energy for other battles. Glancing down at his lean stomach, he had to admit the strict diet and regular exercise had resulted in a cut and toned physique he hadn't seen in years. He supposed that brought a higher price at auction.

He considered what it would be like if he actually was taken to the auction. Would they slather him in oil and lead him naked on a stage in front of a roomful of strangers? Would he be made to kneel, bend over, or let strangers touch him? The thought made him shudder. He'd never been a shy man, which anyone who knew him would testify to, and attention – any kind of attention – was usually quite alright in his book. But there was something about the idea of being paraded in front of people who wanted to own and possess him that made him physically sick. Despite all the time he'd spent here, it didn't touch the surface of the fear he had about actually being bought by another human being. At least here, with Gibbs, he felt a modicum of control.

Looking up he saw Gibbs watching him steadily. Their gazes locked, and Tony felt like a spider caught in a web; he could not look away. Even without a dime changing hands, he belonged to Gibbs, and it was ridiculous to fight it. Rick could sell him a thousand times, and it wouldn't matter, nothing would change. Gibbs' name was written on his soul, and it would always be that way, regardless of what happened in their lives.

To his surprise, Gibbs blinked first, his stony blue eyes dropping away to focus on his lap. There was a flush on Gibbs' cheeks, and Tony couldn't understand his uncompromising boss' sudden awkwardness. He could see a vein in Gibbs' neck pulsing hard, revealing the intensity of his heartbeat. A muscle bunched in his jaw. Nostrils flared. Fists clenched beneath the table. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Gibbs was fighting with the power of his emotions.

When Gibbs broke the stalemate by lifting another vegetable to his mouth, Tony sucked the tips of the calloused fingers longer than necessary, kissing them softly. Gibbs' eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth twitched while he let Tony lick and nibble his fingers. Gibbs finally moved his hand away, and Tony tried to ignore the way his cock jerked futilely.

The entire dinner continued as an exercise in thinly veiled tension. Rick and Steve barely spoke, both men strangely ruminating and silent. The other slave trainers followed their lead, not sure why, but maintaining the unwillingness to engage in conversation. Josh practically squirmed in his seat, barely able to keep from bursting out with ill-timed questions.

Just when it looked like the boy was not going to be able hold his tongue any longer, Rick raised his head and let his grey gaze drift around the table. He sat his fork down and laced his fingers together. "We are going to have a visitor tomorrow."

Heads snapped up, giving him undivided attention.

"One of our best customers wants to come up for a preview of the merchandise and I have agreed to accommodate his request. If all goes well, I could anticipate this adding quite a bit of profit on any upcoming sales to this individual."

Steve picked at a piece of bread, dropping flaky layers of crust on his plate. He lifted his eyes to Tony and his mouth twisted up in a wicked grin.

_Shit._

Gibbs maintained his unreadable expression, although his fists stayed balled up in white knuckled anxiety under the table. Tony realized why he never played poker with the man.

Josh, of course, asked the question everyone else wanted answered.

"Who is it?"

Rick thinned his lips. "You don't need to worry about that; a client is a client. Everyone needs to be prepared for him to request time with any of the slaves you are training. No request is to be denied." He let his eyes rest on Gibbs, making his meaning very clear; it would not be wise for Leroy Jackson to prevent his boy from participating. "When he leaves here he'll see that he can't live without owning one of our boys."

Tony's stomach rolled over. He had a sinking feeling that this visit was not going to be one he would remember fondly. Gibbs shot a gaze at him out of the corner of his eyes and tugged the leash; Tony scooted closer until he leaned against Gibbs' muscled thigh. He found the contact calmed the racing of his heart.

The stakes rose again, and he wished like hell he and Gibbs could fold their cards and walk away.

Unfortunately they had already made their ante, and in this game the only option was to play out their hand and hope they could bluff their way through for a little while longer with a pretty shitty hand.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Notes: **_This is a long one! I think it has some expected and unexpected elements in it; I hope you find it exciting. There's a lot of action. I look forward to finding out your reaction!

**Warning: **BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash. If you don't want to read these situations, don't read this story.

**Chapter 17**

Rick sipped his coffee and watched a weak sun struggle to light up the sky. The pale yellow orb wasn't having much success; dark grey clouds covered up its efforts and allowed only diffused rays to make their way through to the earth below.

The result was a bleak cement colored horizon that offered no warmth or promise of joy for the coming day. It seemed even the atmosphere was aware of the serious business at hand and matched itself to his somber mood. Depression blanketed his spirit, and he knew from experience there was only one way to shake free from its smothering effect.

Quick movement caught his attention, and he raised an eyebrow as Josh scurried across the quad balancing several cups in his hands. A few months ago he would have been surprised that his laconic nephew was up so early; now the boy was wound tight as a spring, barely sitting still for five seconds. Rick found his nervous energy disconcerting. Josh had been arranging for coffee to be brought to Jackson for the past few weeks and he wondered what that was all about. The kid had latched onto the newest slave trainer like an eager puppy, and he hoped hero worship was all that was going on between the two men. He liked Josh and hated to see anything bad happen to his sister's son as a result of his attachment to Leroy. Even now, after several weeks, Rick wasn't sure if he could trust his newest addition to the staff, and Steve utterly despised the taciturn man whose training methods – although successful - were definitely unorthodox.

When he first brought Leroy Jackson here he thought he might have found a trainer equal to himself and someone to bring Steve in line, possibly help calm some of his protégé's wilder tendencies. Now he wasn't so sure the impulsive decision had been for the best. Jackson had become completely enamored with DiNozzo, to the point that Rick seriously wondered if it was going to be a problem when the NCIS agent had to be sold. It wouldn't do to have any more complications arise. This had been one of the most difficult training sessions in recent memory, and if anything else happened he wasn't sure the business would be able to survive.

In his mind he replayed the conversation with his contact who had called him for Nakamura; the Japanese businessman could be heard in the background spewing a litany of words that he couldn't understand but recognized from the tone meant nothing good. The only information of substance he had been able to derive from the call had been that Nakamura was convinced NCIS had figured them out and they would all be going to jail as soon as they arrived at the auction site. In the end the only way he had found to calm the man was to offer to let him come up to the compound and see that everything was fine; they had DiNozzo safely tucked away and there were no feds hiding in the bushes. Nakamura eventually accepted the suggestion, in no small part swayed by the opportunity to sample from the young man free of charge. It didn't matter; Rick was ready to do whatever it took to keep the sale intact and one of their best customers happy.

Rick took another sip of coffee and found it had gone cold while he ruminated. He wasn't going to let Leroy in on the nature of the visit or who they were expecting. It would be helpful to find out Jackson's reaction when he had to send DiNozzo off for a real workout; if the trainer caused a scene, it was perhaps better to separate them for the final days prior to the auction. One thing was certain, Nakamura was a sadistic little prick, and he wouldn't go easy on the kid. If DiNozzo didn't really understand what he was going to experience for the rest of his life, one night with Nakamura and he would have no more questions.

He sat the cold coffee cup on his desk and cracked his knuckles. Everything would go right with this transaction; he wouldn't let it fall apart. It was more than the money, more than his dream of the type of wealth that he couldn't spend in a lifetime. It was the knowledge he had been the one to facilitate the creation of another perfect slave. That another Dom had a sub who was there to fulfill every wish, regardless of how depraved or cruel. There would be no judgment, no condemnation of their kinks and quirks. They could be who they were with no regard for others. None of the buyers would have to worry about being subjected to the kind of prejudice that had haunted his life.

And DiNozzo would be his greatest achievement yet. He was the perfect combination of natural submissive with a willful spirit that wasn't easily broken. He was boyishly handsome, but still a man in every regard. He could take a lot of punishment without breaking down. But he would break, because at his core was a soul that craved love, appreciation, and approval. When those feelings were withheld, he would eventually do anything to get them back, even if he had to give up the beliefs he held so dear and accommodate himself to the wants and demands of another – his master. It would happen, of that he was certain. When it did, it would be a thing of beauty.

He smiled, content that his choices were the right ones. Suffering was a part of life, and even though some, like the slave who had died, had to experience pain, it was necessary for others to experience pleasure. He had concluded it was a part of the natural cycle of existence like predators and prey; one could not exist without the other. It was a high price to pay, but he would never regret it for an instant.

It had been several months since he had indulged in bringing down a sub. He didn't do it often, since it frequently left him on edge and out of control. Years ago he had agreed that Steve would do most of the hands on training because of his own tendency to get too intense during a scene. His placid demeanor most of the time belied the cruel bent that emerged when he gave his dominant urges full reign. He rolled his neck, hearing it pop as the tightness in his bones released. Yet the tight feeling in his soul remained. He needed spiritual release, and he knew exactly where he would get it; the pressure and stress would only be relieved when he had a beautiful, submissive boy quivering at his feet. He would loosen DiNozzo up before Nakamura got here, and have him ready for anything. As long as he was careful, nothing should go wrong.

Leroy Jackson – and even Steve - would just have to deal with it.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony sat on the bed and watched Gibbs move around the room collecting items for their morning routine. The older man was already dressed in dark jeans and a black button down shirt; he somehow made the simple outfit look provocative. Tony was showered and shaved, but he was worn out from the night spent trying to argue his case to the former gunnery sergeant who refused to listen to his pleading. Gibbs had made his mind up and absolutely nothing was going to change it. By the time Gibbs ordered him to go to sleep, Tony had been so frustrated he was ready to punch a wall.

Softening just a little, Gibbs had put his arms around Tony and given him a fierce hug. The action surprised the agent, who quickly indulged in the unexpected embrace, resting his head on Gibbs' shoulder.

"See?" Tony whispered. "This feels right."

Gibbs had chuckled, the low voice husky in his ear. "I'm going to get us out of here, DiNozzo, and then we'll take it one step at a time. This is not the time and place for us to….."

_Fall in love?_ Tony completed in his mind.

"….be together," Gibbs finished. "You've trusted me so far, Tony. Trust me with this." It was the most difficult thing his boss had asked him to do, but Tony promised to try. If he was ever going to be submissive, he supposed he had to learn to stop questioning everything, even when he didn't agree.

It hadn't made sleeping in the bed next to Gibbs any easier. The night had been long and arduous, and he doubted either of them had rested much as Gibbs worked so diligently to not brush up against him and risk breaking down the walls that were keeping them apart.

When Tony had finally drifted into an uneasy sleep he had experienced troubling dreams; Kate had visited him, bringing Jenny along for the ride. His former partner had sported the puckered round hole in her forehead that Ducky had worked so hard to hide, and Jenny had been covered in bloody wounds that he should have prevented. He couldn't recall exactly what they had said as they pointed accusing fingers at him, but the sense of blame had still been fresh when he woke, inches away from Gibbs' flesh, but miles away in his heart. He had snuggled in closer to the hard, firm body, letting his hand rest on the silvery patch of hair on Gibbs' chest. At some point he must have fallen asleep again, because when he woke, Gibbs was already up and in the shower. Tony didn't really want to face whatever was going to happen today, but neither of them had much of a choice.

"Let me put this on your back," Gibbs stated, holding the tube of lotion. Tony stood, zoning out under the rhythmic stroking of the lead agent's strong hands. He wanted to savor every second of Gibbs' touch since he didn't know when he would feel it again.

"Who do you think is coming here today?" he asked, putting voice to the question that had been troubling him all night.

Gibbs massaged the ointment along the lower section of Tony's back, soothing away the pain that remained from the flogging. "It could be anyone, but my gut says Nakamura."

"Who's that?" Tony asked. "I heard Rick and Steve mention the name, but I didn't know who they were talking about."

The fingers continued to rub firm circles on his flesh. "He tried to pick you up in that club the night you got in the fight. He's the one who asked Rick to bring you here for training. He wants to buy you." Tony wondered how he had missed that important piece of information, but his memories of the first few days here were still fairly sketchy and since Gibbs arrived he'd had other distractions to keep him occupied.

Tony's mind went over the events from several weeks ago, and he recalled the strange Asian man who had sent him the drink. All this time and he'd had no idea that one brief encounter was what had set this entire chain of events in motion.

"Will he recognize you?" Tony asked as Gibbs finished the careful treatment of his skin and put away the lotion.

There was something disconcerting about the way Gibbs laughed. "Oh yeah, he'll recognize me."

Tony didn't get a chance to ask more before there was a knock on the door. Josh hurried in with coffee; he looked ready to jump out of his own skin.

"Rick is acting really weird," the kid blurted out, sloshing liquid everywhere. "He's been watching me like he thinks I'm up to something."

Gibbs took the coffee, sat it on a table and picked up a cup, taking a long sip before speaking. "We need to go tonight. Is everything ready?"

Josh bit his lip nervously. "Yeah, wire cutters are in the bag you left in the woods. I'll make sure the electric gets turned off on the fence, but we won't have much time after that. Maybe ten minutes or so until someone figures it out."

Gibbs nodded. "Alright. I'll give you a time later. Do you have any idea who this VIP is?"

"They won't tell me anything." Josh shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," Gibbs reassured the jumpy kid. "We'll handle it, whoever it is. Now go on to breakfast and try to act normal."

When the kid looked both ways as he walked out the door, Tony doubted if it was possible for their accomplice to hide his anxiety. Maybe things would be so busy today no one would notice.

He just prayed their mystery guest didn't pick him to go on a test drive with. He wasn't sure how Gibbs would react to that, and he doubted he would handle it much better. One more day was all they needed, and maybe they could get out of this mess. He hoped that luck would be on their side this time. One way or another, their charade wasn't going to hold together much longer. Either Gibbs would crack and explode or Tony would fail to cooperate and get himself killed. It was highly possible the current visit from this unknown customer would be the catalyst for it to all fall apart.

Tony's mind had been on auto-pilot as he worried about the day's events, but he suddenly registered Gibbs' touch as the man made quick and efficient work of putting on the chastity device. There was no way to stop the sexual tension that thrummed between them; his heart beat faster and his entire body felt jolted by electricity as Gibbs maneuvered his dick into the Gates of Hell and added the cock ring. Tony was almost glad for its presence when Gibbs leaned him over a chair and started to loosen him up for the butt plug; without it he would've probably shot off like a horny teenager the second his boss' fingers dipped inside him. He tried his best to hold still and not groan when Gibbs pushed the rubber into his hole and finished attaching the device. His entire body throbbed with the lack of release.

He didn't protest when Gibbs hooked his cuffs to the waist belt and only blinked when he felt the leash attached to his collar. Amazingly, he was growing accustomed to the lack of freedom, and let himself slide into that zone where he just followed along and accepted that he had no say in the situation; he really did belong to Gibbs and trusted him to take care of his needs. Even if everything went to hell in a handbasket today, Gibbs would do everything possible to take care of him.

Gibbs gave him a quizzical look; Tony noticed the bulge in the older man's pants that showed he wasn't the only one aroused.

"Damn you, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, putting a hand behind his head and pulling him into a fierce kiss that left Tony light-headed and weak-kneed. "Stop looking me at me like that," Gibbs ordered after he stepped back and picked up the leash, gripping it tightly and allowing Tony only a small amount of distance between them as they stepped out of the room and into the unknown.

Breakfast was awkward with only muted exchanges and little attempts as conversation. Gibbs didn't speak to anyone and none of the others made any real effort to engage him, his stony demeanor warning everyone away. Rick didn't eat, watching Tony through slitted eyes, something feral and animalistic in the way he followed DiNozzo's every move. It was unnerving, and Gibbs picked up on the change in attitude immediately, laying his fork down and folding his hands to stare back at Rick like a particularly interesting bug on the bottom of his shoe.

Steve made no attempt to hide his curiosity at the tense atmosphere, yet the unspoken exchanges only fueled his appetite, and he shoveled in eggs and bacon like it was the last meal he'd ever get to eat. A loud belch concluded his gorging, and he smiled enigmatically when Rick tore his eyes away from Tony long enough to glare at him disapprovingly. Resting his elbows on the table, he used the nail of his pinkie to pick at his teeth.

Rick stood, his chair scooting back with a loud screech. The others followed his lead and rose as well, preparing to take the slaves to the fitness room. Gibbs jerked the leash, indicating for Tony to rise to his feet. They headed for the door, but stopped short when Rick moved in front of them, arms folded.

"I need DiNozzo for the day, Leroy. Our guest has a particular interest in spending time with him and I want to make sure he's prepared."

Gibbs' mouth set into a grim, firm line, and his hand twitched on the end of the leash. Tony had absolutely no idea what the man was thinking or how this showdown would play out. Refusal to follow the order would end in disaster; Gibbs might be forced to leave or worse. It was obvious he had no choice but to let Tony go.

DiNozzo wanted to tell Gibbs it was alright, that he would be ok, but he wasn't allowed to speak. He peaked up through his lashes and studied Rick; the man's expression was colder and harder than it had been in weeks. Tony wasn't sure what had changed in him, but there was a pulsing anxiety that practically poured out of his skin. Whatever Rick wanted to do, Tony was pretty certain he wasn't going to like it.

"I need the key to the chastity belt."

Rick held out his hand in calm expectation.

Gibbs hesitated, allowing a quick glance at DiNozzo. Without further delay the NCIS agent fished in his pocket and pulled out the key.

"I've put a lot of work into him," Gibbs said smoothly, with barely a hint of a smile as he dangled the key over Rick's palm. "Don't break him." He dropped the key and walked away.

Tony couldn't stop himself from whipping his head around and staring at Gibbs' retreating back. It was one thing to know Gibbs had no choice; another to actually watch him leave.

Steve walked up to them. "What are you up to, Rick? Our guest won't be here for a few more hours at least."

Rick shot him down with a glare. "I'm exerting my rights as owner of this camp. Do you have something to say about that?"

Steve puckered his lips, obviously displeased. "Just take it easy. You know how you can get; this might not be the best choice right now." If Steve was being the voice of reason, Tony was really worried about Rick's state of mind. He'd never expected this turn of events; Rick had always appeared to be the calm one, but it just proved you could never tell the secrets someone carried around inside.

"Don't question me. Go supervise the exercise room. I'll let you know if I need you." Rick dismissed his partner with a wave of his hand.

Steve hesitated, letting his gaze drift over Tony. "Whatever you say, Rick." Doubt was written all over his face, but he turned and left them alone.

"Time to find out what a real teacher can show you, boy. By the time our client arrives you'll be ready to do anything." Rick grabbed the leash and wrapped it around his hand several times, forcing Tony to follow behind as he moved. He thought about resisting, maybe trying to pull free and make a run for it. But where would he go? He doubted he would get more than twenty feet before Rick or one of his minions tackled him. So he walked along docilely, going where Rick led. His mind raced and he prayed he could handle whatever was going to happen next. There was nothing Gibbs could do to help him this time and he was on his own.

_Survive. _Before NCIS, before Gibbs, that was all he had been able to do. He wanted to go home and find out what might happen between him and Gibbs, if they could have a relationship. But to have any chance for that, he had to make it through the next few hours in one piece.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs walked without hesitation, his pace quickening with every step as he forced himself not to run. The look on Tony's face; betrayal, shock, fear – his sub's hazel eyes had shown every emotion he had been feeling at the second he realized there was nothing to stop Rick from taking what he wanted. And it was pretty obvious what the Dom had in mind.

The silver haired man's thoughts raced through the possibilities, reviewing and discarding options at the speed of light. There was only one scenario he could come up with, and that slim thread of hope hinged on Tony holding out long enough for him to set the necessary steps in motion. As he rushed across the compound, he berated his own stupidity. There was no telling what Tony thought about him after his behavior the last few days. Gibbs had shut down, pushed Tony away, and tried to prevent any recurrence of what he saw as an overstepping of his boundaries as a Dom. He was trying to protect DiNozzo, but he felt fairly certain his main accomplishment had been to make Tony feel hurt and rejected. Add this cluster-fuck on top of it; well, he wouldn't blame Tony for hating him.

He headed into the main house and straight to the workout room, scanning quickly for the only person who could help them. He saw Josh turn his eyes toward him; Gibbs didn't say anything or approach where the kid was supervising several slaves' exercise routines, instead staying close to the exit. Fortunately, Josh seemed to understand something was wrong, and he made his way to Gibbs' side, leaving his slaves with another Dom.

Gibbs kept his voice low but didn't waste time with explaining the situation. "We've got a problem. I need you to cut the power to the electric fence now."

Josh stared back blankly. "What? Are you kidding? I can't do that!" His voice squeaked some at the end, and Gibbs scanned around to make sure no one was paying any attention.

The lead agent shifted into Josh's personal space, leaving only inches separating them. He grabbed the front of Josh's shirt and twisted the fabric into a knot. "Rick has Tony somewhere alone. I'm getting him back. Right now."

Josh's eyes darted around frantically. "There's no way. We don't have a distraction, everyone will follow us. We won't make it across the compound."

Gibbs resisted the urge to shake the frightened younger man since his help was essential. Every second that passed was one more second that put Tony in imminent danger, and he had no time for debate. "I'll make sure we get out of here; just trust me. Can you turn off the electric or not?"

"Yes, but…."

"Do it in exactly twenty minutes. I'm going after him and you need to meet me at the fence." He kept his tone low and forceful, unwilling to sound as desperate as he felt. He let go of Josh's shirt and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Josh grabbed his arm. "What if I can't do it? What if someone stops me? You'll be electrocuted if you try to climb out before I turn the current off!"

Gibbs considered the alternatives, and decided that Tony wouldn't want to live with whatever Rick was planning on doing to him anyway. They'd take their chances.

"Then we die. Don't be late."

The former marine waited for Josh to walk out ahead of him, giving the boy a small shove when he seemed reluctant to go. He was taking a huge risk, but they were out of time. The chance of this working out with no one getting hurt was next to none, but it was a gamble he had to take; for DiNozzo.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony concentrated on not tripping over his own feet as Rick set a quick pace down the lengthy hallways of the main house. His mind jumped frantically, trying to find something to settle on that wasn't absolutely horrifying.

Gibbs had no choice but to hand over the keys and walk away. Tony understood that, but to see it happen…..it was difficult to be on his own again after having Gibbs by his side for so long.

Logically Tony realized any show of resistance from his boss would have meant certain death for both of them, but it would have been nice to have some type of grand gesture to show there was something real between them, that sleeping together had really meant something to his boss. He told himself not to worry about it, that Gibbs was just being rational, but the part of his brain that had watched way too many romantic movies protested loudly.

He stumbled, catching his balance before falling down. Rick didn't even notice in his determination to drag Tony into a section of the mansion he had never seen before – the hardwood floors gave way to carpet and the wallpaper turned more opulent. Doors lined the corridor every few feet. Rick hadn't bothered to explain what he wanted, but it was fairly obvious. There was only one thing Rick could have in mind and it wasn't good; Tony couldn't take his eyes off the clenched fist that held the key Gibbs had brazenly handed over. The fact Rick demanded the key told him everything he needed to know about what the older man had planned. He hated to admit it, but the chastity device made him feel a little safer, but unfortunately now there was nothing to stop Rick from taking what he wanted.

Without paying attention Tony walked into Rick's back, not realizing the trainer had stopped outside a large set of double doors. Rick turned with a glare. He gripped Tony by the arm, opening the door and roughly flinging him inside. This time Tony was unable to stay on his feet, tumbling into a heap on the floor. Rick locked the door and headed toward him, bearing down like a lion ready to rip apart a defenseless gazelle.

"We're going to have some fun, pretty boy." The statement came out with a slight snarl. "I've let Leroy keep you for himself far too long."

The set of the man's jaw, his glazed and dilated eyes, the way his breaths came in big heaving gasps; Tony prayed there was some way to escape that he hadn't figured out yet. His hands were still buckled to the belt at his waist, leaving him for the most part at his assailant's mercy. He scooted back away from the predator closing in for the kill.

Rick smiled at his desperate attempt to put distance between them. "There's nowhere to go. You might as well make it easy on both of us." Rick knelt down, and Tony took the only opportunity he might have to stop this.

He slammed both his feet hard into Rick's belly, shoving the man backward until he connected with a table that toppled onto its side with a crash. Rick grunted and cursed. Tony managed to haul himself upright, stumbling over and drawing his foot back to kick Rick in the temple – he wanted his attacker out cold as quickly as possible then he could figure out what to do next.

Unfortunately, Rick saw the move and reached out, grabbing Tony by the ankle, pulling him down onto his back once more. Tony landed with a bone-jarring thump, his hands slamming hard into the floor next to his body.

Rick was on him before Tony could catch his breath, straddling his torso and pinning him down.

"Don't move, or I'll bash your head in!" He grabbed Tony's hair and lifted his head off the ground, making it clear his words were more than a threat. "Stop fighting me!" There was a vicious gleam in Rick's slate eyes that chilled Tony's soul; he had never seen Rick so out of control. Usually the man kept himself under tight rein, refusing to show the slightest chink in his armor. No doubts appeared today, only lust and unchecked rage.

For a moment Tony considered giving in, but the thought was fleeting. He might not know Kidon or have super secret ninja training, but he wasn't a chump either, and he had no intention of allowing himself to be raped without fighting it with every fiber of his being. Finding renewed strength, he thrust upward with his shoulder, catching Rick by surprise and forcing the other man to fall heavily to the side. He kicked again, catching his opponent in the jaw, snapping Rick's head backward like a marionette.

Tony surged up and fled toward the door, not sure exactly where he was going, his only coherent thought to get as far away from Rick as possible. That half-formed plan didn't work out – within steps of the door he was bashed in the side of the head with enough force that it knocked him to his knees.

Sticky wet blood flowed into his right eye as his vision darkened and he swayed, bolts of pain shooting through his skull. Nausea swelled from his belly into his throat and he had to fight to keep it from flowing out his mouth.

"Stupid little prick! Do you really think you can get away from me?" Rick dropped a bloody fireplace poker to the floor, lifted Tony to his feet, and pulled him across the room; Tony couldn't get his bearings and had no concept of where he was being taken.

He flinched and groaned when he landed on a bed, immediately trying to roll over and away from Rick's groping hands. His continued struggles earned a stinging slap in the face that felt like knives being stabbed into his eyes.

"Stop moving!" Rick ordered, producing the key as he worked to release the tiny padlocks on the chastity device.

Tony blinked, trying to stop the room from rolling around him. He felt the belt taken off, releasing his body from the leather and steel that had kept it confined. It felt wrong, Rick touching him in the places that somehow belonged to Gibbs whether his boss wanted them to or not. "Get your damn hands off me," Tony mumbled, disappointed his protest sounded so weak and puny.

His defiance resulted in another slap; Tony tasted the coppery tang of blood. "You do not speak without permission! Haven't you learned anything?" He felt the belt pulled from beneath him and heard it thrown against a far wall. Tony shook his head in an attempt to rouse himself from the daze that enveloped his thinking. This was what he had feared since the night Steve had taken him; it couldn't be happening now when he and Gibbs had a plan to escape. They had managed to get by for so long.

Despite his age Rick was a big man, and he used his size and Tony's disorientation to his advantage. With little fanfare he rolled Tony onto his stomach and shoved him forward on the bed. Tony lifted himself up, ready to benefit from his unrestricted movement and attack again. Rick noticed his shifting and elbowed him in the back of the head, driving another torturous spike into his brain that left him reeling and unable to do anything except collapse against the sheets. His wrists were spread apart and attached to hooks on the bedposts; Tony jerked weakly against the tethers, flexing ineffectively as his legs were also bound in place, leaving him face down and totally exposed. He was stretched open and couldn't prevent Rick from touching him anywhere he wanted, with anything he wanted.

Suddenly more bile rose in his throat, pulsing with the agony hammering through his brain. He choked on it and swallowed, hoping he could stop himself from throwing up. This was going to happen and he couldn't stop it; if Gibbs doubted him now what would he think once he discovered Tony had been violated? Tears formed in his eyes; he had sworn never to be in this position again, like he had as a child when he couldn't fight back. Gibbs had seemed to forgive what had been done to him before, but would he overlook it again? The older man already acted like he wasn't fit to make a rational decision.

Tony choked back a sob when he felt a hand brush against his thigh and move up toward his ass, dipping in and out of the cleft.

"You are so beautiful." Warm breath touched his skin…..

Tony's stomach tightened and this time he couldn't control the rush of acid that surged out of his throat in gut clenching waves.

"Shit!" Rick screamed and scooted off of him, trying to avoid the splattering liquid. "That's disgusting!"

The way Tony was tied, he could barely move even as he continued to expel the contents of his stomach onto the mattress. The smell hit his nostrils, which made him even sicker, and he struggled to keep his face from falling into the putrid mess.

"You are an absolute fucking waste!" Rick grabbed his head and shoved it forward into the slimy puddle, and Tony gagged more, unable to breathe.

His hands and feet were unbuckled, and he was pulled off the bed and dropped in the floor. Naked and coughing, he tried to hold himself up but everything tilted and swayed. He collapsed, shivering as cool air drifted over his sweat drenched body. The next thing he knew he was being dragged across the floor by the collar on his neck, which tightened and cut off the oxygen he'd been gulping. His fingers dug at the collar, but the constricting leather didn't loosen.

Soft carpet gave way to cold tile and then he was thrown harshly against the ceramic surface of a shower stall. Blinking, he tried to move away when icy cold water rained down, drenching him with its frigid streams.

"Don't move!" The command was followed by a kick to his stomach, and he curled into a ball, trying to escape this newest misery.

Gibbs. Where was Gibbs? Rick was insane, and Tony wasn't sure he could take whatever the man had in store for him. But Gibbs had left him with this madman, and he'd have to endure the torment alone, since there was no promise of rescue.

There was the sound of voices, but Tony couldn't tell who was talking because of the water running into his eyes. He tried to stand and move out of the shower; a hand shoved him back and he slipped, landing on his tail bone with a painful snap and another crack of his head on the unforgiving wall. This time he didn't get up, instead sliding down into the wet shower floor, dimly aware of the movement above him.

"Get him out of there." The words floated around and he couldn't quite understand what they meant, even when the water stopped flowing and someone pulled him up by his arms. Towels were draped around him, and he was wrapped in something soft and warm.

His eyelids were peeled back and the light stabbed at them.

"What were you thinking, Rick? He's got a damn concussion." _Steve's voice._ He sounded pissed. Tony squeezed his eyes shut against the offending brightness. "Nakamura called and he'll be here any minute."

That sounded important, but Tony wasn't sure why, and Rick's reply didn't matter much anyway as his legs gave out and he descended into darkness.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs had given Josh twenty minutes to cut the power to the fence. The kid had protested that it wasn't enough time, but Gibbs had been unrelenting. Every minute was too long for Rick to have Tony alone.

Tony was _his_, regardless of the status of their relationship, and he'd kill Rick to get his boy back.

He had to figure out where Rick had taken DiNozzo. More than likely it had been to his private rooms, but Gibbs had no idea where that would be. Somewhere in the main house was the most likely possibility; when he'd first arrived Rick had shown him the area where special guests stayed. It was a more luxurious section of rooms than where he had been staying, and there was a very good chance Rick had chosen accommodations in that area of the house, too. It was as good a place as any to start.

He was barely through a side door when commotion interrupted him. Steve came in the entryway, surrounded by several stout, Asian bodyguards and a man he hoped like hell wouldn't notice him.

Nakamura.

There had been few times in his life when Gibbs hadn't been sure what to do and this was one of them. He'd suspected that Rick's special guest was the Japanese businessman who could ruin everything with a glance. He considered turning and heading out the back of the house, but that wouldn't help him get any closer to Tony. Precious seconds ticked by as he considered what action to take.

His decision didn't matter when voices came from the other side of the room and Rick emerged, towing a dazed Tony along behind him. Gibbs had to force himself not to attack the slave trainer then and there. DiNozzo looked like he'd been through hell considering the short amount of time he'd been gone; his face was pale and there was the unmistakable shadow of a bruise marring his temple - along with what appeared to be dried blood. He didn't seem very steady on his feet, like it was taking a great deal of concentration to remain standing. The chastity belt was gone, and Gibbs felt his blood boil at the implications behind its absence.

Nakamura had yet to look in Gibbs' direction, but he had seen Tony as he was led toward him. A callous grin split his face and he started jabbering in Japanese. Rushing forward, he approached the men and switched to English.

"You have him trained for me?" His tiny eyes flicked up and down Tony's naked body, lingering on the areas that he should never have had the opportunity to see. Nakamura licked his lips nervously. Gibbs vowed that if they lived through this nightmare he would see to it that Tony was never again exposed in public; he would buy the guy turtlenecks, gloves, and maybe even a week's worth of scarves. No one should have the privilege of scanning their eyes over that glorious skin without Tony's, or his, explicit permission.

Rick turned to look at Tony and snapped his fingers; with effort, Tony slowly dropped to his knees and tilted his eyes to the floor. The sight was at once endearing and heartbreaking. Having Tony on his knees by his side was incredibly erotic, but to see him do it for someone else, and only out of fear, made him sick. Tony glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Gibbs – his expression questioned what to do. Gibbs shook his head, hoping to avoid the inevitable.

But luck was not on their side. Nakamura, little bastard that he was, turned to follow Tony's gaze and his eyes widened in shock when he finally noticed Gibbs standing across from him.

Stunned silence didn't last long, and high-pitched, unintelligible words were quickly streaming out of the shady entrepreneur's mouth.

"What is he doing here? You idiots! How could you be so stupid?"

Rick shook his head, trying to follow the accusations. "What do you mean? Do you know him?" He stared at Gibbs, his brows drawn down into a questioning peak.

Nakamura cursed in Japanese and threw his hands in the air. "NCIS! He is NCIS!"

Comprehension scrolled across Rick's face. Steve's mouth dropped open in dismay. Rick regained his composure first; he looked down at Tony who was staring at the tableau with mute terror, providing silent confirmation of Nakamura's words. Gibbs could only imagine what his senior field agent was thinking.

Their cover was blown, and the slight hope he'd had of saving Tony was practically gone.

Gibbs had never been one to give up – not as a kid, not as a marine, not as a federal agent, and certainly not now. There had to be a way out of this for him and Tony. Gibbs' eyes darted around, scanning for options. Nakamura's guards had raised their weapons, which were now pointing at him. Other security had moved into position around the exits. They were literally trapped. Gibbs could find the weakest point and attack; hope to get his hands on a weapon, and head for the fence, praying that Josh had turned it off.

But that would leave Tony behind, which was a choice he couldn't fathom.

He checked out Tony again, worried about the sheen of sweat that covered his boy's face and body. Gibbs knew Tony was as tough as they came, but right now his agent appeared to be holding himself up through shear force of will. DiNozzo's green eyes were glassy and round with disbelief at the suddenly hopeless situation.

Nakamura saw where Gibbs was looking and strode over to slap the lead agent in the face. Gibbs held steady and licked his lower lip, making it perfectly clear the smack was little more than a sting. "Long time, no see," he said drolly, unable to hold his tongue in the face of the ignorant fool who had instigated this entire fiasco.

Nakamura put his hands on his hips and tilted his chin in the air. "You have no reason for arrogance now; you will die before the night is over." He clenched a fist and punched Gibbs in the jaw and again in the gut. The agent took the blows gracefully, snickering at their ineffectual strength.

"Is that all you got?"

Taunting Nakamura was not the wisest decision, but he couldn't stop himself. The man turned red with fury, crying out for one of his guards who rushed over and handed him a gun. With a slightly shaking hand he pointed it between Gibbs' eyes. "You will not say another word!" he yelled. Gibbs' nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and held his tongue, waiting for Nakamura to work up the guts to pull the trigger.

"No!"

The strangled plea caught Gibbs off guard and his attention immediately was drawn back to Tony, who was looking at them both desperately. "You can't…..please!" The younger man turned to stare at Rick who folded his arms and shook his head dispassionately.

Steve let out a barking laugh. "See? I told you not to trust him. Leroy's been playing you for a fool all along!" He ran a hand over his short buzzed hair. "What are you going to do about it, Rick – he's a damn federal agent!"

Rick's jaw set tightly and a vein bulged in his neck. He strode over to Gibbs, eyes blazing at the dawning betrayal. Nakamura still held the gun, and the slightest pressure would result in Gibbs' brains blasting out the back of his head. Rick snorted in disgust. "Put that down," he ordered. Nakamura hesitated, but lowered the weapon.

"He is a dog," the Japanese man explained. "And I will see him die for his insolence."

Rick merely pursed his lips and faced Gibbs. "What were you planning? To sneak DiNozzo out of here when we weren't looking? Did you think you could get away with it?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." Gibbs was prepared when his smart-ass remark earned him another, much harsher, punch to the gut; he wasn't ready for Tony to scream out again.

"Stop it!" His agent lunged forward, but Steve snatched the loose leash off the ground and jerked him back, forcing him low to the ground.

Gibbs caught DiNozzo's eyes. "Be quiet," he mouthed, fairly confident Tony could interpret the words. If Tony could stay in control, they might not kill him, too. At least if he knew Tony had a chance of surviving, it would be something. They had their one night together, before the world had closed in on them and torn everything apart. Their eyes locked, and Gibbs couldn't hide his worry and fear.

His senior field agent watched him intently for a minute, hazel eyes at first angry and then taking on a depth of sorrow and understanding. A faint, bittersweet smile curved his mouth ever so slightly. The words Tony formed in silent reply were nothing short of stunning to the lead agent, who didn't deserve forgiveness, let alone the sentiment Tony offered.

"I love you. Don't ever forget that."

Gibbs felt his own lips part slightly in wonder. Of all the times for Tony to make a declaration he picked now. It shouldn't surprise him since Tony had never been one to operate on protocol. Still, it filled Gibbs' heart with something unexpected; pride, awe, and just a little bit of fear. He knew DiNozzo well enough to realize that his unpredictable mind had come up with something.

He watched, mesmerized, as Tony turned toward Steve, and scrambled to his hands and knees. Tony reached out and grasped the trainer's dirty boots, then turned his eyes upward. "Please," he begged. "Don't hurt him. I'll do anything you want. Anything." And then DiNozzo leaned forward and placed his lips firmly on the mud caked leather, completely supplicating himself to the man Gibbs was fully aware Tony despised.

Steve stared for a moment then let out another long, gusty laugh. "So this is what it takes to motivate you, huh? I have to admit I like it."

Tony looked up and Gibbs could see his eyes glistening. He marveled at the level of self-control Tony possessed that allowed him to act in total opposition of his feelings. DiNozzo took a deep breath and let his gaze rest on Rick.

"Master," he whispered. "Please."

Rick stood transfixed at the words Tony had refused to say all this time.

With all the grace of a prowling cat, Tony moved forward, crawling on his hands and knees towards Rick. Steve dropped the leash and let him go. When Tony arrived within inches of the older man's feet, he did the same thing he had with Steve. He wrapped his hands around Rick's ankles and lay his head on top of the expensive Italian shoes that Tony had refused to touch before. "Don't hurt him."

With complete submission, Tony leaned down and kissed the tops of Rick's shoes, before looking up again. Briefly, he let his face turn toward Gibbs, who was standing in stunned silence along with everyone else in the room.

"Go."

The word had been little more than a mouthed plea, but Gibbs saw it. All eyes were turned toward Tony as he once more nuzzled Rick's feet, letting his naked body fidget and squirm for his captivated audience.

There was no time to think or hope or pray. Gibbs had to take what Tony had given him and make it count.

With explosive speed, Gibbs sprang into action, sprinting a few yards to the nearest guard and shoving his gun in the air before punching him square in the face. The guard howled and dropped his weapon, which Gibbs scooped up, firing a shot at another guard who had taken aim for him.

He placed a sharp kick in the downed guard's face to make sure he wasn't getting up. A shot cracked through the air and he felt it whiz past his ear. Gibbs fired back, taking down a third guard who fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Rick grab Tony's arm and drag him backward toward an alcove. DiNozzo fought and struggled but couldn't pull free. There was no possible way to get to the agent, who was now surrounded by Steve, Nakamura, and several bodyguards. The space separating him from Tony might as well have been as wide as the ocean.

Another shot pinged off the wall next to him, and Gibbs moved once more, turning over a table and ducking behind it.

He carefully aimed at the security agents approaching him, hitting a few more, before setting his weapon toward Nakamura. He grinned in satisfaction when his bullet tore through the Asian man's shin.

With a fierce wail, Nakamura hit the floor, clutching at his leg which was spewing bright red blood.

Steve let out an unearthly growl and stepped out of his cover, stalking forward like a big game hunter ready for his biggest kill yet. His meaty face gleamed with sweat and his forehead creased with concentrated wrinkles.

"Get back here!" Rick grabbed for his arm, but Steve shook him off and continued to walk toward Gibbs, his eyes gleaming with fury.

"You fucking bastard!" he screamed. "I'll blow your damn head off!"

Gibbs stood his ground calmly and lifted the gun in his hands. Years as a sniper left his heart beating slowly and his mind totally focused. He leveled his weapon, even as Steve readied his own for a fatal shot. Gunfire echoed as the two men fired almost simultaneously.

Steve froze, his eyes round and shocked, blinking before he looked down at his black t-shirt that was quickly saturating with blood. He gave Gibbs one more startled stare before collapsing to the floor, gasping for air.

Gibbs lowered his own weapon, noting that his left arm burned from the grazing bullet from Steve's gun. For a few seconds everything had gone silent, then sound crashed back in and he heard Tony's frantic cries.

"Boss – get the hell out of here!" His senior field agent was frantically lunging forward, stopped only by the fact that Rick had managed to grab the leash and was pulling him back like a fish on a line. Tony's face had gone purple from lack of air, and his fingers were grasping at the collar cinched tightly around his throat.

Another gunshot flew past him, as Nakamura struggled to aim a rifle he had picked up from a dead guard. The Japanese man's face was contorted in a ball of anger and pain, and he pulled the trigger again, coming closer to hitting his mark.

Gibbs spun around, trying to find a mean's of escape. He couldn't leave Tony, but there was no way to get to him without being shot down like a target at the shooting range.

He sought Tony's face again, and DiNozzo shook his head, urging him onward. "I love you," he mouthed. "Go." Nakamura lifted the rifle once more. Tony pulled free and tossed himself on top of the Asian man, knocking the gun from his hands.

Gibbs turned and flung himself like a torpedo toward a large window, bursting through the glass and into the tepid sunlight, rolling through his landing and coming up on his feet in a dead run. He sprinted across the compound without looking back, heading toward the place he and Tony had picked as their escape route.

His mind a jumbled mass of thoughts and emotions, Gibbs hoped Josh had managed to turn off the fence, or else neither he nor Tony stood a chance of coming out of this alive.

Blanking his mind to everything else, he ran.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

As Gibbs approached the fence, dogs barked in the distance. Rick was close behind; he probably only had minutes to spare.

The small hill appeared in his vision – there was no sign of Josh. Gibbs stopped running and leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, trying to slow his breathing. He closed his eyes to steady his nerves. There was only one way to save Tony now, and that meant getting help as quickly as possible. The fence loomed over him, blocking his path to escape.

The dogs barked again, louder this time, and Gibbs scrounged in the dwindling light for the bag of supplies. Finding them, he searched inside and pulled out the wire cutters, saying a prayer of thanks to Josh wherever he was. Now, he had to see if the kid had been able to pull off the other part of the miracle.

Crouching low, he picked up a handful of dirt and stood, flinging it at the cold grey wires of the fence.

Nothing happened. He wasn't sure it was an adequate test for whether or not the fence was still activated, but it was going to have to be enough. The dogs were nearly on top of him, and there was no more time to waste.

A body burst through the undergrowth, and he spun around to face the latest threat, lifting the gun from the ground to aim at his attacker.

Only years of experience prevented him from pressing his finger against the trigger and firing…at Josh.

The boy was panting hard, but he had frozen deathly still at the sight of Gibbs with the gun.

"I….I didn't think I'd make it….."

Gibbs lowered the weapon and grabbed the kid's arm. "Is the fence off?"

Josh nodded. "Yeah. But we gotta hurry; they're right behind me."

"Come on." Gibbs let Josh go first, keeping watch as Josh mounted the fence and started to climb. The former marine slung the backpack over his shoulder and followed, fingers gripping the mesh as he hauled himself toward the top.

Josh waited while he removed the wire cutters with one hand and went to work on the barbed wire, snipping it strategically to allow them room to climb through. He ignored the pain in his arm from the bullet and the occasional slip that allowed the metal to slice through his skin.

Josh glanced nervously over his shoulder. "Hurry up, I can see them."

Gibbs continued to methodically cut, finally freeing enough of the dangerous wire to give them room to climb over.

He moved to the side, clinging to the fence like a monkey in a tree. "Be careful."

Josh bit his lip but didn't dawdle, carefully placing his hands and feet to maneuver through the opening. Gibbs turned his head, noting the dogs crashing through the bushes and undergrowth. Turning back, he was grateful to see Josh had made it over and was climbing down the other side. Gibbs gingerly followed suit, sliding past the knife-like points to avoid stabbing himself. By the time he made it through, Josh had traveled halfway down the fence and was nearly close enough to the ground to jump off.

The dogs broke through then, snarling and growling, hurling themselves at the fence. Josh screamed, and Gibbs climbed faster. He managed to grasp his gun in one hand while he practically slid down the fence with the other.

Rick was in the lead, gripping his own weapon as a small cadre of guards swarmed toward them, firing. Gibbs returned shots as best he could, knowing his aim was off as a result of his effort to get down to the ground.

Josh screamed again, suddenly flung off the fence through the air, coming to rest with a thud on the hard earth. Gibbs could see blood blooming on his shirt, low across the belly. His wide eyes stared up at Gibbs in abject terror. Gibbs judged the distance and jumped, landing roughly on the ground next to the fallen boy. Bullets were still flying in all directions, and Gibbs could see Rick swarming in pursuit.

With no time to be gentle, he grabbed Josh by the arm and dragged him backward, memories of doing the same thing on a dozen battlefields filtering through his vision. He didn't slow down until they were behind a dense growth of trees and mostly shielded from the gunshots.

He wondered if the guards would climb the fence after them or go around to the front of the compound, which would significantly slow down the pursuit. That question was answered with stunning finality when one of Rick's dogs plowed into the fence and a deluge of orange and blue sparks erupted everywhere, the animals panicked yelps resounding painfully as it was thrown back off of the fence that was surging electricity once more. Rick was shouting at his guards and running to the prone form of his beloved pet.

Gibbs pushed back the surge of exhaustion that washed over him, realizing that this was an unexpected opportunity to put distance between them and Rick. Josh was barely conscious, his eyes only slightly open, but Gibbs hauled him to his feet anyway, throwing an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to move. The boy clutched a bloody hand to his stomach, and Gibbs knew they wouldn't be going far until something would have to be done to stop the bleeding. But for now, the only thing on his mind was getting as far away as possible..

With effort born from desperation, they stumbled into the forest.

_NCISNCISNCIS  
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Tony lay on the floor of the cell and stared up at the small sliver of light from the window high up in the wall. It shafted down toward him, letting dust motes dance in the burnt orange glow of evening.

He took a shallow breath and tried not to move, his shaking body aching from top to bottom. Nakamura and his men had worked him over thoroughly, leaving no spot untouched by fists, feet, or whips. There was no blanket and he shivered violently; it hurt so much to breathe that he gasped with every effort. He wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a ball to try and create a little bit of warmth. Nakamura had promised to be back soon, and he had no doubt there was a lot more than a beating in store for him. He pushed the thought away, since it was beyond his ability to control. It didn't matter though – Gibbs had gotten away.

And Tony had told him. He'd said it, even if no one else had known, even if Gibbs didn't want to hear it. Even if they never saw each other again, Gibbs would know.

The shocked look on Gibbs' face had been priceless, and Tony let the image of it comfort him as he drifted in a haze of pain and misery. If he had to, he would relive their one night together over and over again, committing every detail to memory while he endured whatever these bastards made him take.

It was all he had left, and it would have to be enough.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Notes: **_First, let me apologize for posting this so much later than I normally do. I just had the perfect storm of work, family, and graduate class assignments that left me with absolutely no time whatsoever. I read all of your wonderful reviews and still plan to try and respond to them. They keep me going when I get this overwhelmed, so keep sending them and hopefully I'll be able to reply like I want!

Second, I know that some of you are really anxious for Tony and Gibbs to be totally out of this mess and back together. I do give them some nice moments once they return to DC, and there is a schmooshy happy ending. So do not despair! Trust that we'll get there more quickly than you might think.

So, here you go. Thanks for being patient with me and I hope you like the chapter.

**WARNING**: BDSM, non-con, dub-con, kink, slash. Don't read if this offends you.

**Chapter 18**

Gibbs laid Josh down in a shallow bed of grass. The boy looked up at him and coughed, flecks of blood spattering his face and the collar of his shirt.

The kid was so young, barely old enough to shave and call himself a man. And he was dying.

The former marine had seen it happen enough times to know; he'd held the shattered bodies in his arms and comforted them through the final moments of their tragically short lives. Josh would never graduate from college, get married, or grow old. There was nothing that could alter his fate.

Like most of the dying boys Gibbs had escorted out of this world, Josh faced it with dignity. He coughed again, and smiled wanly.

"Could I have some water?"

Gibbs rummaged in the backpack and found a bottle, opening it and holding Josh while he took a few sips.

"I wish…..I wish we could've gotten Tony out," he whispered tiredly.

There wasn't much Gibbs could say to that. "Me too," he agreed. He was trying hard not to think about what might be happening to Tony now that Nakamura had him. If he let his mind focus on that, he would leave Josh here to die alone and try to launch a suicidal assault on the compound by himself. Instead, he busied himself checking the gaping wound in Josh's stomach; the shirt was saturated, and blood still leaked steadily from the ragged hole.

Josh flinched at the light touch and pushed Gibbs' hands away. The boy's eyes rolled up toward the sky and he gazed at the bright stars. "It's a beautiful night. I signed up…..for astronomy…..next semester." He sighed heavily and struggled to take another breath. "Can you tell my Mom….I love her?"

"I'll tell her," Gibbs promised, and took the boy's hand in his own. "I'll tell her what a brave man she raised."

A shudder passed through his lanky frame and Josh seemed to melt into Gibbs' lap. He gasped a few times and squeezed Gibbs' fingers and then his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Gibbs sat there and held the boy's lifeless body, trying to figure out how this had all gone so wrong. He considered if there was a way to conceal the corpse from scavengers, but he didn't have the tools or the time. There was nothing he could do now except keep moving and keep his promises, to Josh and to Tony. Gently he laid Josh on the ground, stood up, and jogged deeper into the forest.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"We've been pulled from the investigation." Vance's tone was clipped and precise; he scanned the document and placed it back on his desk before steepling his fingers and making eye contact with each of them. "I realize this is a disappointment to you, but we have to accept that we have done everything possible to resolve these disappearances."

He was careful with his words, purposefully not mentioning the missing agents. Tony had been gone for weeks; Gibbs had never returned from his "sabbatical" and had been gone almost as long. No one had heard from him.

The fiasco with Nakamura had ensured their team would have no further involvement with the task force. They were officially banned, and the investigation was being turned over to higher authorities in the FBI.

McGee and David didn't respond, their shoulders slumped despondently - they had obviously taken the botched assignment hard. Fornell and Sacks were getting their own reprimand in an office on the other side of DC. He understood how much they wanted to find their teammates, hell, he wanted to find them, too, but his hands were tied and at this point the best thing he could do would be to help them keep their jobs.

"You're on cold cases for the next few weeks. I'm not sure yet how we're going to handle the Major Crimes Response Team if….." He struggled to determine what to say next that wouldn't create more upset. "If this isn't resolved soon. We'll reevaluate the situation within the next month."

He stopped speaking and stared, indicating the conversation was finished. The agents glanced at one another and turned toward the door. McGee paused, leveling a firm gaze at the Director. "Would you at least tell us if the FBI agents following Nakamura have turned anything up? He's the best lead out there right now."

Vance blinked and gave his head a quick shake. McGee might not assert himself on a regular basis, but he did when it counted. The Director realized his agents weren't going to like his answer, so he decided to make it short and to the point. "Nakamura has gone off grid. He slipped the agents who were assigned to him and has been unaccounted for since."

The junior agent's face paled. "They lost him? How? Without him we have nothing!"

"_We _are no longer involved in the investigation. It's up to the Bureau to figure out where he's gone." He sensed the despair his comments had caused and tried to make up for it; he wasn't completely heartless. "Try not to worry, something will come up and when it does I'll make sure you're informed about it."

"Do you think…..?" Ziva averted her gaze before looking back up. "Do you think Tony is still alive? And Gibbs is with him?"

Vance rubbed the side of his head and decided to answer as honestly as he could. "I don't know, I just don't know."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Rick dropped into the leather chair behind his desk, too exhausted to even pour himself a drink. He recognized that he was a callous man, but finding his nephew's bloody body had been a shock. It wasn't that he felt particularly close to the kid, but it was another reminder of his repeated failures; the losses were piling up at a rate difficult for him to comprehend. He never would have imagined that training one slave could lead to so much turmoil.

They had searched the woods for several more hours after discovering Josh, until it had become so dark that continuing the manhunt would have been dangerous. The man he had known as Leroy Jackson had disappeared as thoroughly as possible, not even leaving a trail behind.

The trained psychiatrist could not believe his own gullibility. How could he have ever been deceived by that man? Steve had warned him, and his dead partner had been correct all along. Rick had seen what he wanted to in Leroy - a comrade, a like mind who could understand him. As usual, it had all been a lie. Rick had learned years ago not to trust people because they would turn on you in the end. His brief academic career was a perfect example of the lack of loyalty displayed by the human race.

Leroy Jackson. That wasn't even the man's real name. Now Steve was dead, and despite his partner's shortcomings they had been friends a long time. He had been the one person Rick could trust implicitly, and that was lost forever.

He wanted nothing more than to rip Leroy's head off with his bare hands. Since that wouldn't be possible, he would settle for second best – taking it out on Leroy's beloved DiNozzo. The slave would pay a high price for his teammate's betrayal.

Chances were good that Leroy was dead somewhere deep in the woods; they were hundreds of miles from civilization and the silver haired NCIS agent had been wounded. It would require a superhuman effort to walk out of the unforgiving terrain alive under the best of circumstances, but with few supplies and a serious injury it was nearly impossible. His body would be ripped apart by scavengers and his bones scattered in the undergrowth. Yet, on the possibility Leroy did make it back to the real world, steps would have to be taken to ensure they were protected. The camp would be closed and all evidence of their existence removed. Nothing would be left behind. He would take Anthony and the other slaves to the auction, collect his sizable profits, and set up in a new location. Somewhere warmer, maybe in the south. He needed a more comfortable climate anyway.

A quick rap on the door was followed by the entrance of Nakamura who scowled at him, his face pinched like an angry baby. "You did not find him?"

Rick sighed in defeat. "No, but I don't think he'll last long. We shot him and he's days away from anyone who could help."

Nakamura snorted. "Do not underestimate the man. He is very persistent." The Asian tossed a folder on his desk. "That is all you need to know about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I thought you might find it helpful."

Rick opened the envelope and withdrew a pile of documents. Maybe he would have that drink as he got to know his enemy. Just in case he was still alive after all.

Nakamura hadn't moved, and Rick glanced at him. "Is there something else?" he asked.

A wicked grin split the other man's face. "We have some business to finish."

Rick placed the papers on his desk; they could wait until later. Right now, he would keep his potential buyer happy and exact some revenge in the process. He stood. "Follow me."

It was time for Anthony to start making restitution for Leroy's deception.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Get up."

Tony tried to figure out who was bothering him and why he'd fallen asleep on the floor. His thoughts jumbled together and didn't make much sense, but he knew he was cold and sore. A foot nudged his ribs and he cried out at the shard of pain it caused.

"I said to get up."

Someone grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. Blinking furiously, he recognized Rick and several guards standing in front of him. The events of the last few hours returned and he guessed the slave trainer was pretty pissed for a reason. He prayed the angry glare meant Gibbs had truly escaped. He tried to stand up straight, but the pain in his chest stabbed with every pitiful intake of air. It didn't take a medical degree to diagnose some cracked ribs.

"I promised my guest a chance to see what you've learned and I don't intend to disappoint him." Rick tilted his head at a guard, who lowered his weapon in order to pull Tony's wrists behind him and snap them together.

Tony didn't speak, choosing not to antagonize the angry Dom any further, but he stared at him pointedly.

"Eyes on the floor." A smack on the back of the head punctuated the command, and Tony looked down, trying not to fall over in the process. He figured there was a pretty good chance he had a concussion from the earlier attack, and his ribs now felt like they were on fire.

"Move." One of the guards poked him with his gun and Tony stumbled forward.

By the time they had walked through the maze of hallways he was gasping and covered in sweat. Every time he nearly fell someone hit him, so he made sure to stay on his feet, but he wasn't certain that was going to be possible much longer.

A sense of déjà vu swept over him as he stood outside another set of double doors, much like he had not so long ago. They opened, and Nakamura waited inside wearing a red silk robe tied at the waist with a gold belt. Tony was feeling a bit hysterical anyway, and he started laughing at the ridiculous sight.

"Why are you laughing?" The way Nakamura's face scrunched up made him laugh harder, and Tony just couldn't quit regardless of the agony it cost him.

"Shut up!" Nakamura looked at Rick indignantly. "Make him stop!"

A gun butt to the stomach ended Tony's chuckling and he fell to his knees wheezing.

"You will show respect," Rick warned, shaking his chin and swatting him on the head again. He reached a hand to one of the guards and picked up a long plastic rod. Tony had been accustomed to the riding crop, and he suspected this was a new and improved version. As Rick held the end of the rod toward him, it clicked in his addled brain that this was something much worse.

He tried to lean back but it was too late and the rod touched his skin, sending a shockwave of electricity through his system. He cried out and rolled on his side, squirming to try and relieve the pain surging along his nerve endings. Panting, he attempted to focus on Rick who towered over him holding the rod menacingly.

"It's a cattle prod, modified of course to suit our purposes. I've made sure everyone knows to use it when you get out of line. The days of special treatment are over." He lowered it to within inches of Tony's skin. "Do you think you can behave, or do I need to give you another reminder?"

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head. Survive. He had to survive.

Now it was Nakamura's turn to laugh. "Bring him inside. I have waited on him for a very long time."

There was nothing Tony could do. He was drug along helplessly into the spacious bedroom. His arms were released from behind him and stretched apart, attached to chains descending from the ceiling. His ankles were similarly bound, and hysteria welled up once more. As he dangled in the air he felt like Faye Ray waiting for King Kong to pay a visit. All that was missing was the sound of tribal drumbeats; however his heart was pounding out a pretty good rhythm on its own. He laughed again, high-pitched and thready, and found this position hurt his ribs even more, and there was no way to escape the agony caused each and every time he breathed.

Rick circled him, tapping the cattle prod against his hand. "Laugh while you can; you will be a good boy for Mr. Nakamura. And if he likes you enough, he will bid on you at auction and become your master for the rest of your life."

Tony's laughter died on his lips. "He'll never be my master," DiNozzo spat. "I have no master."

Rick pursed his lips, reaching out with the cattle prod to flick the ring on Tony's nipple. It wasn't quite healed yet and it hurt when it moved. "I beg to differ, my boy. Leroy was your master, whether you acknowledge it or not. You can't help but submit – it's in your nature." He trailed the rod down Tony's chest, letting it slide against his balls and up and down his cock. Tony nearly stopped breathing – he couldn't imagine what it would feel like if Rick sent a charge through that part of his body. He tried to keep his face impassive and not reveal any of the fear that gripped him completely, but doubted he was very successful.

Rick smiled, pleased with whatever he saw on Tony's face. "Now that Leroy is gone, you can submit to someone else. You _will_ submit to someone else."

The fear encompassed him absolutely. "What do you mean – now that Leroy is gone? What did you do to him?" Tony screamed, not caring that it took every ounce of air in his body to get the words out. He forgot about the cattle prod, Nakamura, and everything else. All he wanted to know was whether or not Gibbs had escaped.

"Did you really think he could get away from here? He's dead, boy. I shot him myself. Now it's time for you to accept that and move on."

Tony shook his head disbelievingly. "He's not dead. You're a lying bastard. I'd….I'd know if he was dead."

Rick laughed and grabbed Tony's face, leaning in to force a kiss on him. DiNozzo squirmed and tried to turn his face away. Eventually Rick pulled back and studied him. "Pathetic. But whether or not you believe me isn't important. You have no choice but to accept your fate." He motioned for Nakamura to join him. The small man's eyes gleamed as he bounced a flogger against his palm. "Enjoy your evening; let me know if there is anything else you need."

"I have everything I want right here," Nakamura replied, smacking the flogger lightly against Tony's thigh. "Thank you."

Tony watched, his mind numb, as Rick and his guards left the room, shutting the door behind them.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

A week of cold cases had not done much to improve the mood in the MCRT bullpen, even though they had managed to resolve two investigations and give two families closure regarding their loved ones. Gibbs would have been proud.

Abby turned off her equipment, carefully following her routine for shutting down major mass spec and the other babies she spent most of her time with. When everything was done, she picked up her long black leather trench coat and slid into it, grabbing the pink and black purse that Tony had given her on her last birthday.

She froze, staring at the purse, remembering the box that had been wrapped in skulls and crossbones paper – she had no idea where he'd found that. There had been so much tissue inside the box she had accused him of not putting a present in at all. He'd laughed while she tossed paper all around like a tiny tornado, finally discovering the dainty purse at the bottom. She'd squealed in delight, amazed that he had been paying attention the first time she'd seen it in a thrift store in Dupont Circle.

He had accepted her hugs and kisses with grace, grinning devilishly at her as she hung the purse on her shoulder and spun in circles around the room.

"So you're happy?" he'd asked.

"Deliriously," she'd replied.

"Well, then I can't imagine what you'll think after you look inside."

She frowned and stopped spinning. "Inside? You put something inside?" Like a kid on Christmas morning she unzipped the purse, covering her mouth at what she found waiting for her.

"Oh, Tony, this is….I don't know what to say!"

He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed. "Say you'll go with me."

"Of course I will! I just don't know how you were able to afford it!" The tickets to the Humane Society ball were expensive since they were a fundraiser that helped support events throughout the rest of the year. Abby had wanted to go for a long time, but had never been able to come up with the money for tickets. She had hoped Tony hadn't spent too much; how he could afford all his expensive suits and nice cars she had never been able to figure out.

As usual, he had sensed her mood before she put it into words. "Not one objection, Ms. Sciuto. I know someone who helped me get the tickets for free, so you don't have to worry about the cost. Just pick out something really hot and outrageous to wear and make sure it matches this." He swung the purse on her arm and smiled, his grin lighting up his face in that way that only Tony could manage. His emerald eyes had sparkled, and something about the memory broke her heart.

Abby sat down on the stool in front of her computer, clutched the purse to her chest, and sobbed.

_NCISNCISNCIS  
><em>

Days and nights merged together into a seamless stream of time that passed by him in a blur. He fell back on instincts honed in years of training exercises and battlefield experiences that returned to him like the ability to wake up with the sunrise and fall asleep under the stars. He hunted for food using the knife Josh had left in the backpack and the gun he had managed to hang on to after his escape, but he had to limit dependence on the weapon due to a lack of ammunition. It had been days since he had last heard the dogs barking behind him, but he had to be prepared just in case.

He'd managed to kill a few squirrels and raccoons, and had supplemented those delicacies with some slugs and the occasional fish. He'd dug for roots and scavenged for vegetation just like an animal. He'd slept in caves and buried himself under piles of leaves for warmth and huddled under branches when it rained. It had been a blessing there had been no snow. Regardless, the cold had seeped into his skin and wouldn't let go. The temperature wasn't low enough to freeze him to death, but it was frigid enough to leave him constantly shivering and miserable.

His arm throbbed ruthlessly, reminding him of the fact he had nothing more than crude homemade bandages to stop the bleeding and poultices made out of roots to prevent infection. The injury wouldn't have been severe in a world of sterilized emergency rooms and antibiotics; out in the wild it could be a matter of life and death. Gibbs tried to be careful with it, yet there was no way to avoid using the limb in his daily struggle to survive. He only hoped the damage wasn't too severe.

At least he hadn't been shot in the leg. Mile after mile he walked, using the lake as a guide. He wasn't sure how far he'd traveled or how much farther he had to go, but he knew he had to keep moving. His clothes were ripped and torn, his shoes dirty and worn, his skin scratched and bleeding. He'd lost weight, so much that he'd tightened his belt past the last hole and been forced to make a new one with the knife.

His ankle was tender and swollen after he fell and twisted it a few days before and it hurt with every step he took, but that had to be ignored. Beyond wrapping the joint with a strip of his shirt to try and brace it there wasn't much else he could do. He had no choice but to continue walking and believe that soon he would reach the edge of the forest and find some sign of life.

Tony was depending on him. He would walk to the end of the earth if he had to.

At night, when he lay down to rest, he would think about the possibility that Tony was dead. There was no way to know what Rick and Nakamura had done to his agent over the past week while he wandered around in the woods. He had little doubt those two would take out their rage and fury on Tony with no remorse or regard for the man he loved more than anyone else in the world. The best he could hope for was torture and rape, but at least Tony would be alive. They would deal with the aftermath together.

Gibbs tossed a hand over his head and closed his eyes, the sound of lapping water, the rustling wind, the shuffling of possums and mice receding as he remembered Tony's soundless declaration of his feelings. He couldn't have imagined what it would mean to him until it happened. He would have done anything for Tony anyway, but now there was absolutely no choice in the matter.

His jaw clenched when he considered if he found out they had killed Tony. He didn't know if anything could compare to the dark time after Shannon died, but he was sure this would be just as bad. At least Shannon had known he loved her more than life; Tony would die without ever being sure of Gibbs' true feelings. How could he live with himself with that burden weighing him down? It would be unbearable.

A functional mute. That's what Tony called him, and DiNozzo was right. He almost never said what he needed to when the time was right. This time, he might have wasted his only chance to tell Tony the truth.

The moon appeared from behind a cloud, casting a glow over the trees and bushes and a cold breeze blew over him. He pulled the jacket he had packed for Tony closer around him, and let it fight off some of the chill of the night. In the morning he would start his trek again; if he remembered correctly he should be close to the edge of the woods and near a small town. Then he would go back and bring a hell down on Rick and Nakamura that neither man had ever known before.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The confined space Tony found himself in made it impossible to stretch out his long frame. He flexed and released the muscles in his legs and arms trying to alleviate the cramping that had started several hours ago and didn't want to let up. Metal wire pressed into his naked flesh, digging into his skin without possibility of relief. His ribs continued to ache, and he hadn't been able to breathe right for a week. A ragged cough tore through his throat, leaving him wrung out from the exertion.

He opened his eyes despite the darkness that was all he had been able to see for more hours than he could count. A small sliver of light in the far corner of his prison gave him something to focus on but it wasn't much. He wasn't even sure how long he had been confined to this misery.

Every inch of his body hurt; his existence had turned into a cacophony of ceaseless agony. Nakamura was a master at inflicting pain without leaving any lasting marks on the outside but left a litany of injuries on the inside. He'd been beaten with more implements than he knew existed, bound night and day, fondled, and forced to perform acts that he would spend the remainder of his life trying to forget about.

He wasn't entirely sure if that was possible.

The only blessing had been the fact that Nakamura, no matter what he did, couldn't follow through with raping him. The man was completely impotent, and no amount of kissing, rubbing, or stroking could get him hard. The situation infuriated the little Asian, causing him to take out his frustrations on Tony any way he could think of, from the cattle prod to the creative use of various dildos.

Tony shuddered. He had to stop thinking about anything except getting through the next minute. Rick had staked a claim on him every day, taking pleasure out of showing him just who the real master was in his new life. Every time Rick came to see him Tony tried to transport himself out of the situation by thinking about Gibbs, about his friends, about home. He considered giving up, but something deep inside wouldn't allow it, and he clung to life like a drowning man.

The latest turn of events had tested his resolve and he still couldn't predict if he would survive it. They had forced him into a cage that had been secured in the back of a semi. Tony had shouted, protested, reminded them that they wouldn't make any kind of profit if they killed him. Nothing worked.

Rick had smiled benevolently and shut the door of the trailer, leaving him locked inside with no way out. There were a few bottles of water and that was it. It reminded him of the horrendous trip to the camp, when Steve had left him inside that box for hours on end. He searched for inner strength to help him get through it again. If Gibbs had been here…..they kept telling him Gibbs was dead, but he refused to believe it. That faith was the only thing keeping him going, and he couldn't entertain any other thoughts. No, Gibbs was alive, and his boss would find him again.

At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that Steve wasn't around to torture anyone anymore, himself included.

He slept, promising that he wouldn't dream, and woke up screaming, the images of Rick and Nakamura looming like giant specters ready to pluck his very heart out.

Fighting to stay awake, Tony kept his mind distracted by reviewing the cast and plots of his favorite movies, starting with A for All About Eve to Z for Dr. Zhivago (he realized that title didn't exactly fit but he was making the rules so he allowed it). He had moved on to television shows and was trying to come up with one for U when the door was opened and light streamed inside. He watched Rick approach warily, concerned when he saw the man carrying a needle in his hand. Damn, he hated needles.

A guard moved close and reached through the cage, grabbing the collar that still adorned Tony's neck. He pulled DiNozzo flush with the wire and held him immobile while Rick fished for his arm. Tony tensed and made an effort to pull away, but several days without food had left him weak and sluggish. The fight was barely worth the struggle, and he ended up pinned against the wire mesh. Rick gave him the injection with little fanfare, sitting back on his heels and waiting while the drug took effect. Tony slid back to the bottom of the cage and stared at his captor incredulously; fantasizing the most vicious ways he could to kill the twisted Dom. Horror movies weren't his favorite genre, but recreating a scene out of Saw might suffice.

Tony could tell within minutes of the medication hitting his bloodstream that he wasn't going to cause any problems any time soon; he felt the waves of numbness wash over him until he was suffocated under an ocean of lethargy. His arms and legs tingled and his head felt stuffed with reams of cotton. What small amount of strength he possessed drifted away, and he let his eyes fall closed.

"That's a good boy," Rick cooed pleasantly. "I guess I won't need this after all." He handed the cattle prod to the guard.

The cage door was unlocked and DiNozzo was lifted out and practically carried from the trailer to another building. Tony took a breath of warm ocean air, wondering exactly where he'd been taken. There was a long, industrial building that resembled a nondescript and possibly abandoned warehouse. It had to be the auction site; there wasn't anywhere else they would go. Too quickly he was inside again, a metal door clanging shut behind them, and the smell of the sea was gone. It made his yearning for home more tangible than before, and in his altered state he could feel tears pricking his eyes. He was nearly at the end of his endurance. Rick gripped his arm tightly enough to bruise, and pulled him along.

He was ushered through dim passageways into a brightly lit room that hurt his eyes after so long in darkness. His cuffs were attached to a ring in the ceiling, and he'd barely made an attempt to get his bearings, when a biting stream of water hit him in the chest. He sputtered and spit as the hose was aimed at every inch of his flesh, rinsing him off from head to toe. It felt like being flayed alive, the water pressure was turned so high and it was icy cold.

"Stop! For God's sake, stop!" He cried out at tormentors he couldn't even see, and wasn't sure if their laughter was real or imagined. If anything, the water struck him with more force, until all he could do was hang limply in his chains and pray for it to be over. He couldn't fight them anymore, and he wasn't sure why he'd been trying.

When the water stopped he was shaking violently, unable to control the tremors coursing through his body. He hoped the auction was in a few minutes, because no one would ever bid on a half-drowned, nearly dead mess like him. A cough welled in his chest, and he gave in to its demands, letting the sound roar in his ears while he was released and left to fall to his knees in the floor.

"Dry off." A towel was tossed on his shoulders and he tried his best to get the cold water sopped off his body, but he was shaking so much that it was nearly impossible so he gave up and huddled on his knees, waiting for whatever they had planned for him next.

"Come on." A leash was clipped to the collar and he was led out of the shower and down another hallway to a room with a single bed that he was shoved on to. He didn't even try to protest despite his fear of being assaulted again. He was just too tired. Without consideration for how it might look, he curled onto his side and closed his eyes, grateful for the pathetically thin mattress.

Someone placed a hand on his head and he didn't fight the touch. "What the hell have you done to him, Rick? This boy is nearly unconscious and he has a fever."

Rick cleared his throat nervously. "Yeah, well you wouldn't want to deal with him when he has any fight to give you, trust me."

A hand lifted his chin, tilting his face so it was turned toward the light, and Tony could make out a bearded face and a pair of glasses peering at him. "I'm sure he's pretty under better circumstances, but I doubt he could even stand on the stage like this. What did you give him?"

A conversation occurred while he was pushed flat on the bed. Tony struggled to stay aware, unsure of what this other man wanted; there had been too many people who had treated him like a piece of meat to be traded back and forth. He tried to sit up, but was shoved back again and the cuffs on his wrists were attached to bolts on the side of the bed. He tugged at the restraints listlessly, unable to piece together what was happening, but couldn't escape the dread that was building in his belly.

Hands roamed his body, but not in a sexual manner like he had become used to. This touch was much more clinical and precise, examining and palpitating sensitive areas that made him squirm. He coughed again, unable to stop for several minutes. His head was lifted up and a cup pressed to his lips forcing him to drink.

"How bad is it?" Rick asked with concern.

"His lungs sound awful and I think he has a couple of cracked ribs. I'll have to note that on the auction dossier. You realize the fact he's sick will bring down the price."

Another conversation took place that Tony couldn't follow, but as he blinked he saw the doctor place a wad of bills in his pocket. "I think his condition just got upgraded. It's always a pleasure doing business with you." A sly smile crossed the bearded man's face.

Rick chuckled in agreement. "I just have to keep him alive for the next few days and then he isn't my problem anymore. Can you do anything to make him more presentable?"

The doctor talked some more and then Tony felt another sharp prick in his arm. "We'll keep him on high doses of antibiotics. It should help deal with the congestion, but there isn't anything I can do about those ribs. If he gets knocked around anymore one of them is likely to puncture a lung."

There was a short pause. "I plan on keeping him sedated and caged until a few hours before the auction begins. I don't need any more trouble out of this one."

Now it was the doctor's turn to laugh. "I have to examine the rest of him, you know. The buyers are going to want to know if he has any issues that might prevent them from getting their money's worth. I can't lie about that – I'd be fired in a second."

Rick grunted. "He's ready to use, trust me, I've sampled the goods myself. But go ahead."

Tony forced his eyes open to stare at the man dead on. His heart was pounding and he sucked in as much air as he could, hate filling every cell of his being.

"Now, now son, don't get so upset. I do this kind of thing all the time and I won't hurt you." He patted Tony on the leg supportively. "Relax, and it will all go much better." One of his wrists was released and he was rolled onto his side.

When cold, gloved fingers touched his butt cheeks, Tony clenched every muscle and he closed his eyes tightly. His mind sought refuge in places more pleasant, and he found himself lying on soft grass in warm sunlight, wrapped tightly in Gibbs' arms, where nothing they did in this room could harm him.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance placed the report on his desk and rubbed his eyes. He turned his chair to face out the window behind him and stared unseeingly at the shimmering water below. The sun was setting and he usually enjoyed this time of day when he could unwind, but the beauty of the moment was lost on him as his thoughts focused elsewhere.

DiNozzo might not have been his favorite agent, but the man didn't deserve whatever it was that had happened to him. He created havoc, refused to follow protocol, and flaunted his complete devotion to Gibbs, but that didn't change the fact he was a damn good agent willing to sacrifice whatever was necessary to get his job done. He'd proven himself many times over, and even though Vance would have liked him to be more serious during their down times, he had never failed in his assignments.

Even the Jenny Shepard incident hadn't really been his fault. He'd let Tony blame himself because he believed a contrite DiNozzo was easier to handle, but in retrospect that might have been a mistake. Self-doubt and insecurity could eat a man alive, as he knew too well, and he had seen those take root in the younger man, causing the agent to at times reconsider his own natural instincts. Without Gibbs continued support it was hard to tell what would have become of DiNozzo over the past few years. There were moments of greatness interspersed with moments of insanity.

What could Tony have achieved with more support? He pursed his lips and fished a toothpick out of his pocket. Nurturing would never be his strong suit, and coddling DiNozzo's emotional issues would have to be handled by others.

That didn't mean he didn't want the agent found.

Maybe if Gibbs would consider taking the boy on as his sub and quit stringing him along that would make a difference. Vance might be dense about human interaction sometimes, but it would take someone blinder than him not to notice they shared a deep connection. Both might deny it, but it was useless when just standing in the same room with them made it abundantly clear they were already Dom and sub in every way except one.

Jackie would call him a romantic fool if she knew what he was thinking. She had already commented on it after the last office Christmas party when she spent most of the evening watching how the two agents would move in whenever another interested party got too close, casually placing a hand on a shoulder or elbow to silently stake their claim. At the end of the evening after they had arrived home, she had declared it almost painful to see, since they both were so clearly in love and in total denial about it.

Vance had laughed at the time, but the seed had been planted and it didn't take long for him to realize she was, as usual, absolutely right.

He moved back to his desk and collected his papers, placing them into the file. The work could wait until tomorrow – he would spend the evening with Jackie and the kids. Maybe she had some other insights to share with him.

He was almost to the door when the phone on his desk rang. For a second he considered letting it go to voicemail, but with a sigh he gave in to responsibility and picked up the receiver.

His face settled into a hard mask as he listened to the report of a man wandering into a small town near the Canadian border, nearly frozen and half starved to death, but claiming to be an NCIS agent. Without a doubt he knew it was Gibbs.

"We'll be there." He hung up and strode out of his office, all other plans suddenly irrelevant. He would call Jackie after they were en route.

McGee and David, still at their desks long after most others had left, looked up expectantly as he entered the bullpen.

"Grab your gear," he thundered. "I think Gibbs has been found."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony had no idea what day it was, or even what time. He'd become utterly disoriented, unable to determine how often he had been awake or asleep, when he'd eaten, or how often he'd been let out of the cage to take care of personal needs. All he knew was there had been a series of painful shots that had sucked the very life out of his body.

For some reason, today he felt a little more coherent; the edges of his vision were less fuzzy, the pain from the wire cage was sharper. He coughed; the sound less wet and ragged than he remembered before his trip to a drug induced Neverland. His ribs were some better, but he was still sore and weak after God knew how long he had been immobile.

He took stock of his tiny prison – the cage was large enough that he could sit up if he hunched his shoulders, and he could stretch out his legs from a sitting position. Lying down, he had to curl into an awkward ball to accommodate his size. Glancing at his body, he barked out a sad laugh. McGee would be jealous of his weight loss; barely an ounce of fat was left on his once stocky frame. He was bordering on skinny, and he fleetingly thought about the pair of designer leather pants hanging in his closet from his wilder college days. They would definitely fit now.

His was not the only cage in the stark white room where he was trapped. There were at least nine or ten other cages lining the walls, all containing men desperately trying to find a comfortable way to lie. Some of the men were sleeping and those who were awake stared ahead with dead, lifeless eyes – no one spoke or attempted to move much. Tony stared at the latch on the cage considering if there was any way to unlock his prison. A small padlock held the latch closed, and Tony stuck his fingers out of the wire to turn it toward him. He had to blink when his eyesight blurred, not all of the drugs having left his system. The lock slipped from his grasp and he cursed, carefully reaching for it again.

He studied the lock for several minutes before dropping it in frustration and leaning his cheek against the cage mesh. He had nothing to pick the lock with or pry it open; all he could do was wait for what was coming next. Slamming his hand against the wire he cursed for all he was worth, finding some sick satisfaction in seeing the palm of his hand cut open and blood pour out. Several heads turned toward him with curiosity on their otherwise blank faces. He thought about crying but decided that would take too much effort and he was exhausted by the entire ordeal; with a sob he leaned his back against the cage and slumped down, all the fight gone. When the door to the outer room opened he jerked up, startled at the sight of Rick, the doctor, and several armed guards approaching.

Rick was smiling broadly, his steel grey hair swept back in its perpetually perfect ponytail, his white teeth gleaming and his grey eyes bright. His expensive charcoal suit clung to him like a second skin, the tailoring cut perfectly to accentuate his broad shoulders and trim waist. He stopped in front of the cage and studied Tony carefully. "We have a big day ahead of us, boy – do you think you can handle it?" He held the cattle prod loosely, dangling it in his fingers, the implement of torture incongruous with his professional attire.

Tony licked his lips and backed away as far as possible, having no desire to flirt with the electrified wand again. Choosing not to answer, he simply stared in response.

"No smart remarks? Glib replies? Maybe you've learned something from your training after all." He jerked his head at the guards. "Get him out."

To his embarrassment, Tony's legs nearly buckled when they had him standing – he had to allow the guards to hold him up while he tried to regain his equilibrium. Rick shook his head sadly. "Such a beautiful boy; it's a shame we won't have any more time together. I really believe you would have come to appreciate me eventually. Maybe your new Master will grant me a visit?" He held Tony's face in his hand, not allowing Tony to turn away. "I wouldn't want you to forget me." Rick pressed a hard kiss on Tony's mouth. DiNozzo did the only thing he could to fight back – he bit the other man.

Rick shoved himself away and grabbed his bleeding lip. "What the hell?" He drew back his hand to smack Tony, who flinched in preparation for the blow, but stopped short. His nostrils flaring, he picked up the cattle prod and pressed it against Tony's thigh, grinning with pleasure when Tony writhed and slammed to the floor twisting like a contortionist. "Not today, boy. Misbehavior will not be tolerated."

He motioned for the doctor, who knelt beside Tony and pulled a hypodermic needle from his pocket. Tony reacted with a mixture of fear and panic, clenching his fist and striking at the doctor's jaw, knocking him backwards. The guards swarmed him, grabbing his arms and restraining him by hooking the cuffs behind his back and holding him firmly.

"Don't…..don't," Tony asked, looking at Rick. Now that he was out of the cage, he couldn't let them drug him again; he needed his senses intact in case there was even the slightest chance to get away. "I'll…I'll do what you ask."

Tony was raised to his feet and Rick came within inches of his face. For an instant he felt the overwhelming urge to drop his eyes submissively, but something inside him wouldn't allow it and he held fast to the intense gaze.

Rick snorted. "Your every urge is to submit, but you just can't do it, can you? Only for Agent Gibbs, right?" He nodded at Tony's startled blink. "Yes, I know his real name. I know all about him. And I know he never gave you what you wanted, even when you were willing to trade everything for the slightest acknowledgement from him. You're lucky I killed the bastard for you; now you're free to find out who really are."

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. "He isn't dead," Tony whispered.

Rick tilted his chin and took a breath. "You won't ever see him again, so it doesn't really matter anyway." He turned back to the doctor. "Go ahead."

The shot was quick and almost painless, but somehow it made Tony want to break apart in a thousand pieces; he couldn't get away while he was drugged.

"It's just something to calm you down," the doctor said almost kindly. "Give him a few minutes," he said to Rick.

Warmth flooded his veins and he started to float, accepting the disconnection from everything around him. Since he couldn't escape physically, he might as well go on a mental vacation.

"Arivaderci," he mumbled.

The doctor gave him a pitying glance and shrugged, leading him to an attached room where he was made to take another shower. His hair was blown dry and styled into deliberately messy spikes. The doctor then busied himself with something in a bag, turning back to Tony with complete detachment. DiNozzo was still aware enough to suck in a breath when his dick was grasped in the man's slick hand and he started to pump.

Tony wanted to die. Standing there, in that cold room with strangers forcing him to develop an erection, he realized that death would be preferable to living under these conditions. He couldn't stop his body's reaction no matter how much he wanted to, and he wondered if the shot had contained more than just a sedative.

A diamond crusted green cock ring was snapped in place at the base of his engorged cock, leaving it jutting in front of him like a pornographic Christmas present.

"Oil," the doctor requested. He took another bottle and began massaging the shiny liquid onto Tony's lithe form. He finished with a few spurts of cologne.

"Pretty as a picture," he declared, checking the cuffs again to make sure they were still hooked. A green leather leash was attached to the collar, and he was led out of the shower in a daze.

In retrospect he would always be glad the rest of the day's events passed by in an indistinct fog. Rick took the leash and pulled him forward until they were standing on a brightly lit stage. He was made to stand with his feet apart, displaying his dick to the crowd that chattered and applauded appreciatively. His height and weight were announced, along with his background in law enforcement. He was made to bend over and show his ass, which Rick spanked several times to show how it turned a nice shade of pink. His nearly shattered mind was unprepared when a large dildo was pushed into his hole, exhibiting his preparation for any kind of play. By the time he was ordered to kneel on the floor and bids were taken, he thought he might pass out.

The faces in the crowd were fuzzy and unclear, a sea of leering madmen willing to pay for the right to take someone else's humanity without their consent. He found himself searching for Gibbs, hopelessly praying his boss would somehow come bursting through the doors, gun blazing, ready to save him from an unendurable fate.

But that didn't happen. Instead the bids grew higher and Rick's smile grew bigger, until the word, "Sold!" rang out loudly, echoing around the hall like a harbinger of doom. Tony was grateful to be led off stage and away from all those people even though it meant he was now on his way into uncharted territory. It didn't shock him to see Nakamura standing in the eaves waiting.

"My deposit has already been made, so if you'll please turn over my slave." He held out a puffy hand and Rick passed him the leash.

"Enjoy. It's always a pleasure doing business with you." Rick gave him a low bow.

"Likewise." The Asian man turned to his companion. "Is the ship ready? I'd like to leave immediately." He gazed at Tony callously. "The sooner we're in international waters the better I'll feel."

As Tony was dragged away, he realized there was little hope he would ever be rescued now. The life he had known, that he had loved, was over.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Ziva observed the unfolding drama quietly, absorbing the interaction between all the important players, ready to step in if necessary.

The physician folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. He managed to exude a stoic air despite barely having enough peach fuzz in his goatee to require the use of a razor. "Just because we're a small town hospital doesn't mean we don't provide top-notch care for our patients. The gentleman you want to see has been quite agitated for the last few hours and we only got him settled down a short while ago. I will not have him upset by a troupe of gun-toting cops who have no concern for his physical well-being!"

Vance stepped forward. "The gentleman you are referring to has been missing for weeks and it is imperative we speak to him as soon as possible. Lives are at stake and we can't afford to lose any more time." The NCIS Director folded his arms and struck his most imposing pose. "Is he unconscious? Is there any medical reason we can't see him immediately other than his need for rest?"

The doctor ran a hand through his curly mop of hair and sighed, already sensing his own defeat. "He's exhausted, undernourished, and running a low grade fever from a slight infection at the site of the bullet wound in his arm. We've given him antibiotics and an IV; I'd like to sedate him but to be honest he's threatened to 'kick my Doogie Howser ass' if I give him anything to knock him out."

McGee lowered his head to hide a smile. "Doogie Howser," he muttered appreciatively. Ziva jabbed him in the ribs, shaking her head to remind him to be quiet.

"So he's awake?" Vance continued. "Then there's no reason we shouldn't be allowed to see him. If he gets too upset we'll leave."

"Uh, Doctor Warner," a nurse poked her head out of the room they were trying to gain access to. "I could use a little help in here."

The doctor gave her a questioning look and excused himself. He reappeared moments later with his brow furrowed in exasperation. "You might as well come in. It seems my patient isn't intending to be here long anyway."

When Ziva followed the others into the hospital room, she had to grin. Gibbs had ripped out his intravenous line and was already partially dressed in a set of scrubs. His skin was an unnaturally grey color and he had dark circles under his eyes. There were scratches covering his face and arms and he was significantly thinner than when he left DC. He was pulling on a pair of filthy, mud-covered shoes while the young doctor hovered nervously.

"You really need to take it easy with that arm or you're going to rip out all the stitches I worked so hard to put in," he warned.

Gibbs grunted and glanced up at Vance. "About time you got here." He stood and found McGee then held out his hand. "Did you bring my bag?"

"Got it right here." McGee lifted the duffle that Gibbs always kept in his locker. The lead agent snatched it and tossed it on the bed, rummaging inside for an NCIS jacket and ball cap. After putting them on he limped over to Vance.

"We're going to need a helicopter. The terrain is too rough and it would take too long for me to retrace my route. In a chopper I can spot the location where they're holding Tony from the air." He stated the request as a fact; Vance raised an eyebrow.

Vance and Gibbs stared at each other, neither speaking. After a few tense minutes, Vance took out a toothpick and twirled it in his fingers. "Already have one," he stated coolly. "It was the fastest way to get here. I'll call the pilot and tell him to be ready for takeoff."

The doctor shook his head and Gibbs snorted; Vance ignored them both and walked into the hallway.

Ziva took the opportunity to slip next to her boss; she put her hand on Gibbs' arm. "Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

Gibbs licked his lips, the look in his pale blue eyes far away. "I'll be fine when we get DiNozzo back."

She kept her hand on his arm and squeezed lightly, not expecting any other comment from her taciturn father figure without more prompting.

"Were you with him?"

Gibbs blinked and looked at her. "Yes." His mouth twitched like he wanted to say more. When he spoke again his voice was a low growl. "Now that he's alone those deviants are going to make him pay."

Ziva swallowed and nodded. "I understand."

Gibbs adjusted his hat and picked up his bag with grim determination. "We've gotta go."

The doctor tried to move in front of them to block their exit. "I really need to check you out again, you can't leave yet." His voice had a squeaky quality and he glanced at Ziva and McGee like they might help him.

McGee stepped over and opened the door, holding it ajar. Gibbs smirked. "Watch me." He passed the doctor by and walked out. Ziva smiled at the physician compassionately and followed the lead agent.

Vance was still on the phone when they moved past him. He rolled his eyes and joined them in the elevator, leaving the doctor standing in the hallway. "I don't know where we're going – just make sure you have a full tank of fuel and be ready in thirty minutes, damnit!" He turned the phone off and jammed it in his pocket and faced the front of the elevator.

Gibbs' eyes twinkled and he smiled crookedly. "It's good to be back, Leon," he drawled.

Vance huffed air out his nose. "You know what they say about bad pennies."

Behind them, Ziva and McGee exchanged glances. For the first time, she thought everything might turn out alright. She would ask Tony about the bad penny comment when they found him.

Several hours later her positive feeling was gone. Finding the compound hadn't been difficult; they had located it easily, blotches of grey buildings standing out among endless miles of green trees. Ziva had been amazed at the distance of the camp from any vestiges of civilization; she didn't doubt how tough Gibbs was, but the fact he had walked all that way while injured solidified her admiration for his capabilities.

McGee was the first to comment as they circled the area searching for a safe place to land.

"It looks deserted."

Gibbs had glared at him so fiercely that the younger man had snapped his mouth shut quickly and offered no further commentary. Vance was not so easily daunted.

"It is odd – I don't see anyone at all."

They exited the helicopter with weapons drawn and scoured the various rooms and buildings, finding no one. There was little of significance left behind, and with every abandoned room Gibbs grew more and more agitated. When they cleared the room that held the training equipment, none of them spoke, since it was clear what the devices had been used for. Gibbs had simply stared ahead and stomped out. They checked all the bedrooms and when they entered one in particular, Gibbs' reaction made Ziva wonder if he had stayed there while he was gone. He stood stone still and closed his eyes like he was remembering something. They didn't disturb him until he was ready to leave. By the time he slammed through the door of an area containing shattered computers and ripped out phones, he was furious. The older man kicked a phone across the floor before he picked up a damaged monitor and threw it into the wall, cursing.

Vance grabbed his arm before he snatched up a keyboard. "Settle down, Jethro, this isn't helping anyone."

"Then tell me what will help!" Gibbs yelled in his face. "Tell me how to find Tony now! They've taken him to an auction site, Leon. Do you know what's going to happen to him there?" He stepped even closer to the Director and lowered his voice. "You know what they'll do; what they might have already done."

Vance bit his lip. "I understand, Gibbs. But losing control won't help him. As a matter of fact, I think you need to sit down."

Ziva noted Gibbs' pale complexion and decided Vance was probably correct, the events of the last week had caught up with their indomitable team leader. She hoped they didn't have to take him back to the hospital and face the doctor's smug attitude at being correct.

Gibbs, not surprisingly, didn't agree that he needed to rest and he clenched his fist. "Don't patronize me, Director….." A fight was not what they needed, and Ziva moved closer to the two men, ready to intervene.

McGee took care of the problem before it became an altercation. "Uh, Boss," he said from behind the desk, standing up with a computer processing unit in his hands. "I might be able to get some information off of one of these systems if I take them back to the lab." He hesitated, realizing by the hard glares of the two men staring at him that he'd interrupted something. "That is…..uh…..if you want….."

Gibbs pursed his lips and unclenched his fist. Vance cracked his knuckles and twisted his head from side to side, loosening his shoulders. "Is there anything you need us to carry?" the Director asked, approaching McGee, who handed him the CPU.

Gibbs' lips pressed into a thin line and he closed his eyes as if trying to collect his strength now that he knew Tony was out of his reach once more. Ziva walked over next to him, but refrained from reaching out. Instead she said, "If there is a way to track them down, McGee and Abby will find it."

The older man's face softened. "I know." He lifted his chin and nodded with resolve. "I know." She was taken by surprise at the sudden flash of emotions that passed over his normally stern features; sorrow, fear, desperation. His gaze turned inward and she felt he was barely aware of her presence. Abruptly he walked from the room without another word to anyone.

If there had been any doubt in her mind about whether Gibbs loved Tony, those misgivings were shattered by the depth of feeling written in his eyes. They had to find Tony – safe and whole - or she suspected Gibbs would never recover from the loss.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Author's Notes: **_I know the last few chapters have been really rough on some of you guys, so to make up for it I'm doing something unusual. I'm going to post two chapters today! They are both really long, but I want you to get some relief from the situation, and I couldn't figure out a way to combine it into one chapter. So here you are!

Thanks for your continued support of the story; you're comments give me courage and inspiration.

**WARNING: BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash, kink. Do not read if these subjects offend you.**

**Chapter 19**

Gibbs' skin felt like ice, and he didn't understand why he couldn't get warm. It was pitch dark, and all he could see in front of him were whispy trails of his own breath swirling in circles. He was breathing hard, gasping like he'd run for miles, and for one of the few times in his life he felt the suffocating grip of fear in his heart.

He clutched his Sig in his hand, comforted by the familiar weight of it, and inched forward around the corner, unsure of what he would find or even what he was looking for. Discovering nothing but more darkness, he cautiously moved ahead. He was frustrated by the all encompassing black that prevented him from seeing anything. Turning around for a sign of which direction to go, he noticed a sliver of light on the far side of the room. Slowly, gun extended in front of him, he approached the soft glow.

Who was he searching for? A suspect or a witness? He wasn't sure, but he knew he was looking for someone, and he needed to do it quickly. Glancing over his shoulder he wondered why Tony wasn't there backing him up, and then he remembered…Tony was gone. He'd been gone for months and they'd never found a trace of him. Gibbs had let his senior field agent down, hadn't protected him, and DiNozzo was lost to an unknown circle of hell that was far beyond their reach.

His foot slipped and he looked down, noticing something wet and sticky. Blood - a small pool of it that trailed ahead of him into the other room.

His heart pounded in his chest and he stumbled, catching himself before he fell in the slick substance. With trepidation he gripped his gun tighter, and forced himself to carefully move ahead. There was a dim light in the next room illuminating a table and a cot with a body on it. The blood trail continued over to the table and Gibbs followed as if drawn there by unseen hands. The frantic staccato of his pulse thrummed in his ears, drowning out any other sounds as he approached the grisly discovery.

All his years in the military and investigating crime scenes didn't really prepare him for the gruesome display. Dark red blood sluggishly drained off the table, leaving a puddle in the floor. On the surface lay a butchered and unmoving heart, ragged edges indicating the savage brutality used to hack it out of someone's chest. Gibbs stood frozen, afraid to move and see who had been the victim of such a cruel and vile act of murder.

In his own stuttering heart, he already knew the owner of the quiet organ, and that suspicion compelled him to look. His eyes misted over and he turned his head to see, unable to ignore the lifeless body next to him. A sob tore from his throat when he saw the dull green eyes with no spark left in them, and the gaping hole where the once proud heart had been ruthlessly ripped out.

"Tony." He said the name like a plea, and for the first time since Shannon died he felt the rush of hot tears on his cheeks as he knelt by the bed and picked up the cold hand, bringing the long fingers up to rest against his lips.

Never again would he hear the sound of Tony's laughter, watch him saunter into a room and immediately become the center of attention, feel the soft down of Tony's hair under his own calloused hand. So much time wasted for the sake of pride and foolishness. He could feel his own heart shatter and break apart inside his chest.

A low throated chuckle interrupted him, and he glanced up to find Nakamura standing at the foot of the bed wearing a crimson covered smock. He threw back his head and cackled, eyes wide with insane glee.

"He cried for you, Gibbs. Begged for you to save him." The Asian tilted his head in mockery of DiNozzo's dying words. _"Gibbs…..Boss…..please…..I love you_._" _Nakamura giggled petulantly. "Of course, you arrived too late, didn't you, Boss? In the meantime, he and I got to have a really good time together." Nakamura raised a bloody knife in his hand and turned it around so Gibbs could see every angle of the weapon that had destroyed Tony's life.

Rage scoured his veins with white hot intensity that obliterated all logical thought. Instinctively he lifted his Sig and pointed it, aiming and squeezing the trigger in one fluid movement that required only seconds to complete. Nakamura's mouth opened silently, but before he could utter another sound the bullet pierced his forehead and blasted out the back of his skull and he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

Gibbs turned away before the body hit the floor, already disregarding the inconsequential man. His attention rested solely on Tony, who was completely beyond his reach; who would never know just how deeply he cared. He picked up the hand again, letting his tears fall without any concern for the weakness it revealed. It didn't matter now.

"Oh, God, Tony, I'm so so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"_Gibbs_." It was suddenly dark again and someone was shaking him. "Wake up, Jethro; you're having a nightmare."

He blinked, and instead of seeing Tony's blank green eyes he saw Ducky's rheumy blue. "I know you need to rest, but you were dreaming and well….." The ME paused and handed Gibbs his soft white handkerchief. "I thought you might want to waken before the nightmare progressed any further."

The lead agent could feel the wetness on his cheeks and realized he'd been crying in his sleep. He wondered what else he'd mumbled while the elderly doctor had sat by his side listening. With a quick nod of thanks, he used the handkerchief to wipe at his face and handed the cloth back to Ducky, who discretely folded it and tucked it in his pocket.

With a hand that was much firmer than what his years would indicate, Dr. Mallard gently helped Gibbs sit up on the autopsy table that he vaguely remembered falling onto the night before after arriving back at headquarters.

"How long have I been here?" Gibbs asked, stretching the kinks out of his neck and back. The unforgiving slab of steel wasn't the best place to rest, and his body was aching in agreement. Despite the nap he felt restless and unsettled.

"About twelve hours."

Gibbs' head jerked up in alarm. "What? How could you let me sleep that long? I have to….." He stood up ready to take off and do something, although he couldn't say exactly what.

Ducky placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You are of no use to anyone dead on your feet and unfortunately that was the case last evening. Besides, Abigail and Timothy are handling things quite nicely; there wasn't much you could do to assist them unless you have gained some advanced computer knowledge beyond unplugging one that doesn't do as you require." Gibbs' longtime friend folded his arms and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

The lead agent knew Ducky was right, but he didn't have to admit it, so he only grunted in response.

"Just as I thought," the ME concluded. In a kinder tone, he asked, "Would you like to talk about your nightmare? I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but unfortunately there isn't much in the way of privacy here. It did seem quite upsetting."

Gibbs instantly pulled up the image of Tony's bloody form lying on the cot. He'd never been much for interpreting dreams, he left that mumbo jumbo to Abby and his second wife, but he wondered at the significance of the manner of death. In truth, he had been the one to callously rip Tony's heart out, not Nakamura. If he never found DiNozzo and set the record straight, he would live with that guilt the rest of his life.

"I need to go see how the team's doing," he said stiffly, ignoring his friend's question and hoping Ducky would forgive him the rudeness. As usual, the doctor handled his less than stellar communication skills with aplomb.

"Of course. Hopefully they will have some news for us regarding dear Anthony's whereabouts."

Gibbs strode toward the autopsy room doors. "Palmer," he called loudly. "You can come out now!" He walked through the sliding glass and straight to the elevator, where the doors opened immediately as if expecting him.

Palmer stuck his head around the corner of Ducky's office where he had been hiding out of sight. "How did he know…" the question trailed off at the end.

Ducky just smiled enigmatically and shrugged, getting back to the work at hand.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Even though Gibbs wanted to hear what McGee and Abby had found on the computers they had brought back from the compound, the need for coffee took precedence over everything. Besides, he had worked with his team long enough to know that if anything significant had been uncovered they would have already told him, even if it meant waking him up. Abby attributed his arrivals at the moment she came up with pertinent information to magic, but it was more a sixth sense regarding how much time had passed and how difficult the task was to complete. In his gut, he felt they needed a little more time, regardless of how the waiting only added to the sense of anxiety rolling deep in his belly.

In one hand he clutched his extra large black coffee and in the other he held a super-sized Caf-Pow for the girl who had come closer than anyone else to replacing the child he had lost. He'd make a quick trip by his desk to grab any messages that might have come in and see if Ziva had found anything useful, and then he'd head down to the lab to find out if there had been any progress.

Stepping out of the elevator, he barely had time to walk across to the bullpen before someone yelled his name and enveloped him in a bear-sized hug. The Caf-Pow jiggled and his coffee sloshed as he held both drinks aloft and out of the way.

"Jesus, Fornell, be careful!"

The embrace continued for a few more seconds until the FBI agent gave him a pat on the back and shuffled out of his personal space with an embarrassed grin. "I thought you might be…" he gave a one shouldered shrug. "You know."

Gibbs took a slug of coffee and tried to figure out how he'd been so lucky to come out of a failed marriage nearly bankrupt but with a lifelong best friend. It hadn't been such a bad bargain after all.

"Ah, you know me, I don't kill easy."

Fornell laughed awkwardly. "No, anyone who can drink that swill you call coffee could survive a nuclear holocaust." He walked over to Gibbs' desk, passing Ziva who glanced up in acknowledgement and went back to typing on her computer.

"So," Fornell sat on the corner of the desk while Gibbs sat down and shuffled through a pile of papers. "I hear you were with DiNozzo while you were gone."

Gibbs tightened his lips. "Yep."

The FBI agent picked up a paperweight and turned it over in his hands, glancing down and back up. "Was he alright?"

Gibbs' lips puckered and his nostrils flared. "As well as could be expected." He really didn't want to share any details about the experience, but he doubted Fornell would let it go.

His friend sat the paperweight down and crossed his arms. "How did you keep them from finding out who you are?"

Gibbs' bottom lip curled under his top one. He sat the papers down and stared at Fornell. "I went undercover as a trainer."

Fornell's eyes widened. "Really." He chuckled. "So you helped train DiNozzo? I'd like to have seen that."

"It's not funny, Tobias. When I got there they'd nearly beaten him to death."

Fornell nodded, completely serious. "Sorry, I know you're worried. I just find it ironic that you have certain unresolved feelings for DiNozzo and having to train him….even in an undercover capacity….that must have been difficult."

After a deep breath Gibbs' blue eyes fixed at a far spot on the wall. "Not really."

Fornell watched him thoughtfully and he leaned in close, glancing back to make sure Ziva wasn't listening. "The two of you….."

Gibbs jerked his head around quickly.

"You did." Fornell grinned. "That's good, I'm glad you finally got that out of the way. Now when we get Tony back, you can actually build on that."

Gibbs dropped his eyes to the paper on his desk and sighed, wishing that Fornell wasn't so damn observant.

"Oh, Jethro, what did you do? You couldn't possibly have screwed it up already." Fornell shook his head at his latest deduction.

"I didn't want to hurt him." Even Gibbs knew it sounded lame and pathetic.

"Hell, Gibbs, that's the weakest cop-out in the world. You got scared, plain and simple."

The lead agent looked away again, unwilling to meet Fornell's questioning eyes. Yes, he'd gotten scared and as a result hurt Tony as much as any of his other captors. He recalled the rejected expression on Tony's face the morning after they made love; Tony really did deserve better than a cold-hearted bastard like him.

Fornell straightened his shoulders. "Well, the only thing to be done is find him and set it all right."

_If only it were that easy._ Gibbs was glad Fornell didn't hesitate to help him. "So have you been assigned to the case again?"

Fornell cocked his head. "Not exactly; I have about six months of vacation coming and decided now would be a good time to take some. You gonna tell me not to help out?"

"Oh, no, I like the idea of telling you what to do for a while." He stood up and grabbed the cups off his desk. He'd waited long enough; Abby and McGee needed to have found something by now. "Let's go." He headed for the elevator, Fornell following. "You too, David," he called out, not surprised when the Israeli slipped between the doors right before they closed.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs sensed trouble from the minute the elevator doors opened. The music coming from Abby's lab was far from the normal ear-splitting dissonance he had somehow become accustomed to hearing over the years. Instead, his ears were assaulted with a combination of chanting and syncopated drumbeats. The lights were low and he could smell the pungent odor of incense and exotic candles.

He pushed down a sudden rush of anger at the potential distractions, since this was all part of the way Abby worked and her successes far outweighed her failures. However, even his beloved Abby could go too far on occasion and this very well might prove to be one of those rare times. Entering the lab he abruptly stopped, caught off guard by the colorfully dressed woman standing next to the table in the center of the room waving her arms over a boiling pot; she was the epitome of a Creole voodoo priestess from the top of her orange turban to her gold encrusted shoes. The bangle bracelets on her wrists jingled as she swayed, eyes closed, and she sprinkled something into the pot. Everyone jumped when a puff of smoke shot out leaving a curling mist in the air.

"Gibbs!" Abby practically shrieked, running towards him. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. "It's working, I knew it would, and it is; you're here!" She kissed him on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain behind. "And soon we're going to find Tony and then you two can finally get together just like Madam Maison predicted!"

Gibbs gently eased out of her grip. "Madam Maison?" He looked around, noticing that McGee was sitting on a stool in front of a mass of unassembled computer parts with his head down, trying to disappear.

"That would be me." The eccentric old woman stepped forward and extended her hand, which Gibbs took with a glare at Abby. The woman didn't relinquish her unexpectedly strong grip. "Oh yes, Miss Abigail, his aura is very strong and…." She closed her eyes and stroked a ruby red fingernail against her temple. "So many emotions; it is not good to keep them all bottled up so, but you already know that don't you?" She patted his cheek with her hand. "Your boy is out there waiting on you to find him; I can feel him through you. He is strong, too, and believe me…..he knows what you were afraid to tell him."

Gibbs jerked his hand free and turned to Abby. "Get her the hell out of here, Abs."

"But, she's…" Abby stammered, taken aback by Gibbs' vehement anger. Ziva walked over to the visitor, taking her by the arm. "Come with me, Madam Maison, you can wait on Abby in one of the conference rooms upstairs." The Creole woman nodded, never taking her eyes off Gibbs.

Abby twisted her fingers together. "I'm sorry, Gibbs. I was just trying to help, I guess I wasn't thinking." Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and Gibbs found he was immediately over his ire with her. His face softened and he held out the Caf-Pow as a peace offering. She sniffled and took it with a weak smile, sipping from the straw to show she accepted his apology.

Fornell coughed and waved some of the lingering smoke out of the air. "Now that we have that sorted out, do you guys have anything or not?"

Abby and McGee exchanged glances. Tim faced the small group and clicked the keyboard. "We were able to reconstruct one of the hard drives and piece together several emails." Messages appeared on the screen. "It appears they are preparing for an auction of their recently trained slaves." He cleared his throat as if the word had been stuck in it. "The auction is scheduled to take place some time this month, but we've been unable to access an email that contains the exact date."

Gibbs interrupted impatiently. "I already knew all that. Where is the auction taking place?"

"New Orleans," Abby offered. "Apropos, huh? It's more than likely because of the access to so many ports. The buyers take their new….uh, slaves and leave the country on board private yachts. It cuts down on the possibility of getting caught trafficking the…." She searched for a word. "….merchandise back to their home countries. None of the buyers are American citizens since they find it too likely that a slave in this country would be able to escape or would be identified."

Fornell scratched his head. "New Orleans is a big city; think we can narrow that location down some?"

Abby bit her lip. "We're working on it, but so far none of the messages we've found mention the exact site of the auction." She turned to Gibbs, her emerald eyes wet again. "But we're still looking so don't give up! We just need a little more time."

Gibbs felt his throat tighten up; time was the one thing Tony didn't have enough of. He took Abby's hand and squeezed – none of this was her fault and she was doing everything she could. "I know you'll find something," he said softly and kissed her cheek before he turned toward the door.

"What are we going to do now?" McGee asked to his retreating back.

Gibbs didn't stop walking. "What do you think we're doing? We're going to New Orleans!"

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee waited in the lobby of the hotel for the rest of the team to meet him. He spent his time observing the eclectic and varied individuals who were entering and leaving the hotel. A woman in bright green latex pants, a purple sequined blouse and a pink feathered hat sauntered by on three inch stiletto heels. McGee chuckled. Tony would love this place.

If this had been a vacation they could have gone to Bourbon Street; he could only imagine DiNozzo getting wasted and handing out beads to a bevy of equally intoxicated women. They would probably get tossed out of a few bars and end the night with Tony hanging over the toilet puking his guts up. But it would be a blast.

He doubted if Tony was enjoying his time in the Big Easy. He'd done some research on human slavery and what he'd discovered had not been pleasant. It was one thing to know that forced enslavement happened to people, quite another when one of those people sat at the desk next to him every day for years.

They had teased Tony about being a sub, but that certainly didn't mean he was the type of person to agree to a lifetime of servitude. Tony was as strong-willed and independent as anyone he'd ever met, which was one of the reasons McGee believed his teammate had struggled with his sub status. If they managed to get DiNozzo home, he suspected Tony would have an even more difficult time figuring out what to do with the rest of his life after being put through this experience. Gibbs had, in typical fashion, refused to share anything about what had gone in that compound beyond the basic information necessary to aid in the investigation. The haunted look in the lead agent's eyes indicated there was something very profound that had occurred. There had always been something going on between Tony and Gibbs, and he was beginning to believe Abby was right, maybe they did have feelings for each other that went beyond the professional and friendship. Being in a relationship with Gibbs would scare the crap out of him, but Tony had never been one to pick either the traditional or the easy path in life, so perhaps Gibbs suited him.

If they didn't find Tony, he had no idea how Gibbs would handle it. Through everything they had experienced as a team, Gibbs had always been a rock, never wavering and never coming close to breaking down. The worst had been when Gibbs 'retired' to Mexico, and their boss had elected to fall apart by building hot tubs, sitting on a beach, and drinking beer. Not much of a breakdown.

He was glad Fornell was with them. If Gibbs lost it, Fornell might be able to handle him. McGee was completely certain he would have no idea what to do, and he doubted that Ziva would have many suggestions beyond knocking Gibbs out.

Granted, Fornell made him nervous. The FBI agent was always staring at him in a way that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he was beginning to think Fornell had more of an interest in him than as just another member of the team. Yet another reason to miss Tony; DiNozzo would have given him hell over the suggestion, but he would have also had a great deal of insight into what to make of Fornell's recent behavior.

He could always ask Ziva; she would try to give him an honest answer, although he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it.

"Are we the first one's down?"

McGee's eyes darted up to find Fornell gazing down at him. "Um, yeah, I'm still waiting on everybody else."

Fornell sat on the seat next to him, close enough to be in his personal space, but not so close that it was inappropriate. They had covered the basics at the last sexual harassment seminar the team had been required to attend. "Not surprised this is Sciuto's hometown. It suits her," he commented as a kid with green hair and pierced eyebrows walked by.

"Yeah, Abby's one of a kind," McGee answered tentatively, unsure of Fornell's intentions.

"So what's the deal with the two of you; are you guys dating or what?"

McGee didn't hide his shock at the personal question. "Who? Me and Abby?"

Fornell nodded. "Yeah, you two are awfully close, I just thought, you know…."

McGee couldn't contain a laugh. "We tried it years ago before we both realized we were subs, which explains why it didn't work out. We're just really good friends."

The older man seemed to consider his answer. "So that means you're single?"

_Oh, Lord. _Getting hit on by an older male FBI agent was definitely more Tony's territory than his. He fumbled for a reply, eternally grateful when Ziva, closely followed by Gibbs, interrupted them.

Fornell took the change in conversation in stride. "So what's on the agenda today, Boss?" he asked Gibbs, who was already swilling from a gigantic coffee cup.

"Abby and McGee haven't found anything additional, so I guess we start canvassing and hope something turns up." He looked thoughtful as they walked towards the parking lot. "Once we get to the docks, Ziva, you and McGee work together and Fornell and I will team up; we can cover more ground that way. Anything suspicious, call." They settled in the rented car and Gibbs pulled out into traffic to the expected sounds of honking horns and screeching tires. "I want to comb through every inch of this city if it takes us a month," he proclaimed, steely blue eyes fixed straight ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other still clutching his ever present coffee cup.

"Good thing I had my mail held at the post office," Fornell muttered, leaning into a turn.

McGee and Ziva exchanged worried glances. The last time Gibbs had been this obsessed was after Ari killed Kate, and McGee doubted Gibbs had any intention of giving up on finding Tony, ever. He held onto the door handle as they whipped around a corner and prayed they caught a break soon.

For all their sakes, including Tony.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

By evening, the entire team was worn down with fatigue and frustration. They sat quietly at a café near the water, none of them doing justice to the meals in front of them. Ziva stared out at the light bouncing off the water as the sun cast its last rays over the Gulf bathing the evening in a golden glow. It should have been beautiful.

As the silence lengthened, Gibbs pushed his chair back and walked over to a railing, leaning out over the water. His silver hair, a little longer than normal due to his time away from home, blew in the breeze and Ziva could see that he was struggling to maintain his normally detached façade. The stress was wearing on all of them, Gibbs most of all.

The three remaining agents shared unspoken glances, and Ziva determined it was her turn to wade in and try to offer some type of support to her boss. Standing, she crossed the patio to take the spot on the rail next to Gibbs.

"It is lovely, yes?"

Gibbs spared her a quick sideways look, then turned his pale blue eyes back to the sunset. "Finish your dinner, Ziva. Tell the other two mother hens I'm fine."

Ziva barely smiled at the curt command. "No one would suggest otherwise," she played along, allowing him to continue portraying the heartless bastard he had honed to perfection. "I simply wanted to enjoy the view."

Gibbs' own face quivered as his lips drew up slightly. "Sure you do."

"Perhaps," she ventured carefully. "We are slightly concerned about you." She rushed onward after Gibbs' features hardened into a glare warning she was in unsafe territory. "You were seriously injured and have taken no time to recuperate. Not even Superman can go on forever."

"Yes, he can," Gibbs countered.

"What?" she asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Superman," he explained, leaning on his elbow to get a better look at her. "He can go on forever. Nothing can stop him."

"That is not true. He can be stopped by…..what is the substance? Glycerite? Cellulite?" She searched for the word but could not find it in her memory. "Tony would know….." she murmered before realizing what she had said and glancing up quickly to see Gibbs' response.

"Kryptonite," Gibbs offered, mouth twisted in a crooked grin. "And yeah, DiNozzo would know that and about fifty other useless facts that he'd be spouting out now. It's ok, Ziva. We can talk about him."

Ziva blinked at the open emotion on Gibbs' face and further confirmed Abby was correct; Gibbs was utterly in love with Tony and the situation was tearing him apart. "I…I do not know what to say. To tell you that he will be fine would not be true since we have no idea if we will even find him." She turned to watch the orange blaze of the sun fade further below the horizon and to hide the moisture in her eyes. "I can tell you that he is strong and if there is any way possible he will survive this." Tentatively she reached over and covered his rough hand with her own. "And his family will be there to help him recover, because we love him, too."

Gibbs didn't move for a few minutes, until he placed his arm across her shoulders and pulled her small body snug against his side. They stood together and watched the sun continue to set, each letting the silence say what words could not.

"We'd better get back," Gibbs finally said roughly after twilight had fully descended. They walked slowly back to the table where McGee and Fornell sat quietly talking. Before reaching the table, Gibbs' phone rang.

"You got anything, Abs?" Ziva bit her lip and listened, silently hoping that they were finally going to hear good news.

"Got it," Gibbs said, slamming the phone in his pocket and dashing through the tables in the direction of their car. Fornell frantically threw some money on the table and they raced after him.

"What did she find out?" McGee asked breathlessly as they ran through the parking lot.

"She found an address of an old warehouse that's been leased to a holding company called Compagnon de Belles Enterprises. As far as she can tell the company is a front and doesn't even file tax returns," Gibbs explained, sliding behind the wheel.

"Beautiful Companion Enterprises. Pretty clever," Fornell commented from the passenger side.

"You speak French?" Ziva asked, surprised. She also noticed that McGee was staring at the back of Fornell's head with a puzzled expression. Briefly she found herself curious about their earlier conversation and promised to question him about it later.

"There's a lot about me that might surprise you, David," the FBI agent responded glibly. McGee suppressed a grin that further encouraged her curiosity, but now was not the moment to say anything about it. Getting to Tony was the only focus of their attention.

The remainder of the trip was made without conversation. To settle her mind, Ziva reviewed the weapons she had available; her standard issue Sig and a backup at her ankle. She also had several knives tucked away in discrete locations on her body. She would have liked to have been better prepared but unfortunately they had not been given more opportunity to obtain additional armaments. They would have to rely on their training and experience to ensure they made it in and out of the location to bring Tony to safety. She had faced worse odds during her time in the Mossad, and she felt confident that all the men who would be taking the risk with her would be up to the task – even McGee. He might not know it, but she was sure that in his unassuming chest beat the heart of a lion. Nothing would prevent him from doing what was necessary to save Tony from his fate. She gave her partner a reassuring smile which he returned nervously.

Gibbs turned off the lights and parked the car several blocks away from the address he had been given by Abby. The agents moved silently toward their destination, which they found surrounded by a large chain link fence and gate with a guardhouse a few feet inside.

"Not another damn fence," Gibbs cursed, slamming his hand against the mesh. He rubbed his arm where the bullet had entered, glancing around for another way to gain entry. They crept to the side of the enclosure, seeing no breaks in the nearly ten foot high barricade. Ziva secured her gun in the holster at her hip and placed her feet and hands into the fencing, beginning to climb before anyone could stop her.

"David! What the hell are you doing?" Gibbs hissed, scouring the area for any sign of a guard who might observe his agent as she scaled the metal barrier.

"I will secure the location and open the gate from inside."

"Shit," Fornell spat. "Can't you do anything with this crazy team of yours?"

Ziva laughed, already halfway to the top. Like a cat, she slipped over the lip of the fencing and started down the other side. Near the ground, she leapt the rest of the way, landing with a soft plop. Quickly she grabbed her weapon and in a low crouch ran back toward the warehouse entrance.

The other three agents made their way to the front and waited. McGee raised his head as if startled and took his phone from his pocket to check the buzzing device. He frowned and then his eyebrows lifted.

"I got a text from Director Vance. I don't know what strings he pulled, but we have a warrant to enter the site. He's also arranged for backup from the FBI and local LEO's; they should be here in about fifteen minutes."

The gate opened at that moment, swinging silently forward. Ziva ran to the entrance and beckoned them inside.

"Come on," Gibbs said and started forward. Fornell grabbed his arm and Gibbs glared like he was trying to melt the offending hand with his potentially laser vision.

"Shouldn't we wait for backup?" His friend asked earnestly.

Gibbs shook his arm free. "Hell, no. If you want to wait and give them directions go ahead. I'll meet you back here." He spared a glance at McGee. "Same goes for you. I'm not making Tony wait one more minute than he has to." He jogged into the darkness and Ziva followed at his heels. McGee met Fornell's gaze; with a shrug he ran to catch up with his team.

Fornell sighed. "Hoo Rah," he said, and loped along behind.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Light from a full moon guided their way as they scurried down a long driveway toward the low sprawling warehouse that lay tucked next to a large dock and dark lapping water. The outlines of several large yachts dotted the background. The smell of the sea air filled Gibbs' nose and cleared his mind. He clutched the barrel of his gun, prepared to eliminate anybody who was unfortunate enough to try and prevent him from getting inside. He was not in a frame of mind to extend mercy to individuals corrupt enough to associate with this despicable venture that equated human beings with animals.

A small sound caught his ear and he waved his hand for the tiny troupe to stop moving. They huddled low to the ground, trying to stay in the shadows to avoid detection as long as possible.

Two guards ambled up, talking in low tones, neither aware of the intruders waiting for them. Ziva jumped first, slamming the butt of her gun into the back of the first man's head with so much force he fell to the ground without a word. Gibbs punched the second guard in the gut and rammed a knee into the man's jaw, and he quickly fell in a heap next to his companion. Ziva collected their weapons and added a gun to her own arsenal, passing the other to Gibbs, who tucked away the extra gun into the waist of his pants and slipped the knife she held out into his pocket. Fornell slipped a confiscated rifle over his shoulder.

As they continued forward, McGee took out his phone again, the soft light distracting Gibbs who shook his head in frustration and turned the force of his tautly wound temper on the young agent. "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to give away our position?"

McGee, eyes wide, fumbled with the phone and almost dropped it. "No….no Boss. It's…it's Abby. She found a layout of the warehouse and sent it to me. Thought it might help us find Tony faster."

Gibbs took a deep breath through his nose and tried to calm down; he had a highly capable team and shouldn't second guess every move they made. It was hard when so much was at stake, but he couldn't let his emotional investment rattle him. "Alright. That's good work, Tim. Tell us where we need to go."

The tech savvy agent gave him an appreciative look and reviewed the miniscule floor plan for a few seconds before answering. "I think the best place to enter would be the loading area on the east side. From there we can make our way into the main part of the building and try to figure out where they're holding him."

"Take the lead then," Gibbs encouraged McGee, who after a second's hesitation scrambled ahead of the team and led them in the direction of the docks; they crept into position near a low wall. Several semi trucks were parked close to a ramp with a wide door leading to the interior of the building where deliveries and supplies could easily be carried in or brought out.

Gibbs crouched next to McGee. "Where do we go from here?"

His younger agent pointed at a door on the side of the loading bay. "We can enter there and head down a short hallway to a fairly large room." His phone buzzed again and a message popped onto the screen. Gibbs growled irritably and started to stand up having no patience for McGee's gizmos.

"No, wait!" McGee hissed, grabbing Gibbs' arm and earning a harsh blue glare. "Abby tapped into a satellite feed and is tracking heat images – there are several people coming through the door right now."

The door opened and a small group of people walked out; a tall, muscular man with his long grey hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing an expensive suit led two leashed slaves who were shackled at the wrists and ankles. The subs kept their heads bowed as they shuffled along behind their master. A second man, shorter than the first and nearly as big around as he was tall, talked animatedly to the individual leading the slaves. He wore a dark track suit and had a thick gold chain around his neck. Moonlight glittered off several rings stuffed on his pudgy fingers and a gaudy diamond stud sparkled in his ear. Two beefy guards armed with rifles followed behind.

Gibbs held out his hand to Fornell who removed the rifle he had appropriated and gave it over. Wrapping the strap around his arm, Gibbs settled down and rested the rifle barrel on the edge of the stone wall. He glanced over at the others. "Be ready…..don't kill the tall man. He's mine."

The tone of his voice was as cold as winter ice, brooking no argument and inviting no conversation. He waited until they had their weapons raised and settled down to take aim. The world around him receded, sounds diminished, and the only thing that existed was the target in front of him. He took a breath and held it for a count of five, slowly released it, and fired two shots in quick succession.

It was like watching a scene from a movie; the guard's heads exploded in a mass of bone, brain, and blood, first one and then the other tumbling to the ground without raising a finger in retaliation.

"What the…..?" the fat man cried out, turning around in a circle to find their attackers, reaching for a gun more smoothly than one would have guessed for someone his size. Rick pulled the slaves backward and ducked behind them as a human shield and eliminating himself as a target.

Ziva surged forward, followed by Fornell and McGee. She took a shot at the obese slave trader, who fired in return while stumbling toward the loading bay searching for cover. The Israeli made it to one of the trucks and slid behind it, continuing to lay down shots at her target. Fornell and McGee raced to the side closest to the slave traders, attempting to reach a stack of crates standing on the edge of the platform. Shots forced them to stop in the open as Rick fired from his position behind the frightened slaves.

"Get down, McGee!" Fornell yelled, trying to protect the agent from the crossfire. He focused on the new threat, but found it impossible to return fire without endangering the slaves who were hiding Rick from view.

"Look out!" Ziva warned as the obese man took aim again; McGee cried out and hit the ground hard clutching his thigh.

Fornell whirled quickly and his responding shot found its target, tearing through the thick neck of their assailant. Big fingers clutched at the spurting wound, unable to stop the stream of blood from pouring over his knuckles. The large man fell to one knee and then the other, finally sprawling face first onto the floor where he didn't move.

Ziva ran from the safety of the truck, taking out her second gun and firing both in the direction of the tall man, careful to avoid coming close enough to hit the slaves. She flung herself down next to Fornell and McGee.

"Is he alright?" she asked with concern, sliding her hands underneath McGee's shoulders to lift his head out of the dirt while Fornell studied the hole in their friend's thigh.

"I can't tell, there's too much blood." Fornell's voice had an edge to it. He pressed down and Tim screamed.

"Stop….Ziva, make him stop!"

"The bullet might have hit an artery; I have to get this bleeding under control!" Fornell countered. Dirt flew up next to McGee's feet as another hail of gunfire rained down from the remaining slave trader.

Ziva hooked both hands under McGee's shoulders, ignoring her partner's cry of pain. "Cover us," she demanded, dragging Tim toward the side of the warehouse where they could gain some respite from the attack. Fornell fired toward the tall man, trading shots with their opponent. He cursed when one of the slaves screamed and grabbed his shoulder, winged by one of the bullets. Joining Ziva and McGee, he placed his body in between the NCIS agents and the gunfire.

"Where the hell is Gibbs?" he muttered, and Ziva shook her head before pulling off her jacket and shoving the fabric into the tattered hole in McGee's leg.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Master, help me please," the slave begged, staring up at the man who had complete control over his very life.

Rick ignored the frightened pleas, dropping the man's leash and pulling the remaining slave close to his body; he scrambled down the driveway toward the vehicles and the rented BMW that waited for him. He couldn't waste time with a wounded slave when the only thing that mattered was escaping. He had seen Gibbs when the shooting started, and didn't intend to wait around long enough to run into the man who no doubt wanted to kill him.

Glancing around, he continued to shoot in the direction of the agents on the far side of the warehouse, not concerned with hitting them but more determined to keep them at bay until he reached his car. The voice in his ear came as a shock.

"Don't take another step."

Rick ceased moving; the slave in his arms whimpered. Rick put his gun against the side of the man's head. "I'll blow his brains out unless you get out my way."

Gibbs stepped out of the shadows, his rifle aimed steadily at Rick's heart. "Where's DiNozzo?"

Rick snarled. "So that's the kind of man you are. You'll sacrifice an innocent life to save your precious Tony. I should have expected that from a selfish bastard like you."

Gibbs assessed the hostage whose life was suddenly a bargaining chip in a high stakes game of life or death. He was no more than a kid; twenty-five at the oldest. He was well muscled and strong, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused, indicating that he was probably drugged. There were livid red stripes on his naked body where he'd been recently whipped.

It was no surprise Gibbs didn't recognize the boy from the compound since all he'd really paid attention to was Tony.

The slave looked at him, and something flickered in his soft brown eyes that Gibbs hadn't seen before. Fire. Fight. Determination. Gibbs hoped he was reading the signals right, and he nodded slightly in response.

Without warning the kid slumped downward, throwing Rick off balance as he tried to compensate for the shift in weight. The leash fell from his hand and he moved the gun away from the boy's head, giving Gibbs a miniscule opportunity to act.

The former marine kicked out, striking his foot into Rick's gun hand; the weapon fell from limp fingers and clattered on the pavement. Gibbs continued the attack, slamming his boot into Rick's face, satisfied with the cracking of bone and spew of blood beneath his heel. The Dom fell backward, catching himself with his hand. He rolled over before Gibbs could strike again, scissoring his own leg out and into the side of Gibbs' ankle, knocking the agent to the ground. With agility honed in years of hand to hand combat, Gibbs sprang back to his feet.

Rick crawled toward his gun, stretching out his hand to grasp the handle. Before he could get a grip, Gibbs' foot pressed down on the long fingers, smashing them into fragments of bone. An ear-splitting shriek pierced the air. Gibbs knelt on one knee and grasped Rick's ponytail, pulling his face back before pounding it against the unforgiving concrete.

With no compassion, Gibbs rolled Rick over on his back; the slave trainer's nose was scraped and bloodied, his lips torn and bruised. Gibbs gripped his SIG and aimed it directly between Rick's eyes, pressing it into the flesh until the skin dimpled around it.

"Where. Is. Tony?" he repeated, finger tensed on the trigger. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears; he would shoot this man without hesitation, and never lose a minute's sleep. Maybe that was some kind of flaw in his personality, that he couldn't feel guilt for punishing those who hurt the one's he loved. Sometimes justice required the enforcement of the law, and other times it was necessary to mete out judgment in a more personal manner. Today was one of those days.

Rick laughed, his teeth stained pink with his own blood, his visage a gruesome mask of sadistic cruelty. "Go ahead and kill me, Gibbs. DiNozzo's gone; you'll never find him. I'll never tell you where he is and you can live out the rest of your life knowing he's being beaten, starved, raped…and you can't stop it."

Rage exploded like a white light, blinding him. He took his gun and smashed it across Rick's face, shattering the cheekbone and slicing a long gash in the skin. Gibbs stood, leveling his weapon again.

"Get up!" he shouted. "Stand up so I can see you when I beat your brains out!"

Rick struggled to obey; losing his balance until Gibbs roughly grabbed his arm and forced him to his feet.

"You're good at dishing out abuse to defenseless subs; how do you like it when it's you on the other end?" Gibbs dropped his gun and lashed out, punching Rick in the ribs repeatedly before moving back to his face, which he pummeled without remorse. Blood slicked his knuckles as he connected with the man's face and body again and again. Rick fell to his knees and tried to cover his head with his hands, unable to respond to the unrelenting attack.

"Where is he?" Gibbs screamed in Rick's ear, hand gripped in the ponytail dragging his head back painfully. "Does Nakamura have him?"

"N…never. Never….tell you," Rick stammered through swollen lips, his body swaying weakly. "Gone….already gone." He tried to laugh, but choked on the blood in his mouth and coughed instead. "Kill…me."

Gibbs reached for the knife Ziva had given him earlier and pulled it out, holding it firmly against Rick's neck, the tip creating a bloody hole in the flesh. "You deserve to die," he whispered, so lost in his own pain and anger that he didn't hear the wail of sirens or notice the approach of cars. Only when Rick blinked and his gaze wandered did he realize they were bathed in a stream of bright light.

"Don't do it, Jethro."

Fornell stood next to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't ruin your life for a piece of shit like him. Let him live and make him suffer."

Gibbs adjusted his grip and dug the knife a little deeper, enjoying the pain that flickered across his enemies face. He wanted to kill the man, wanted him to hurt as badly as Tony was hurting, as badly as he was hurting right now with the knowledge of what was being done to DiNozzo.

"Tony wouldn't want you to rot in prison for him. Don't give up on finding him; if I know DiNozzo he's waiting for you," Fornell reasoned.

Blood trickled from the wound. He had killed for revenge before, and even though he didn't regret it, the act hadn't changed anything. Shannon was still dead; Kelly had never kissed him good-night again. The earth still turned and life went on regardless. He let out a deep breath and felt something release from inside him. He pulled the knife away and shoved Rick into Fornell, who caught the limp body before it fell to the ground. "I'll see that you spend the rest of your life in solitary confinement," he whispered.

He walked away from the buzz of activity, FBI agents and LEO's rushed to take the slave dealer into custody. Something warned him to turn around, and he froze at the sight of Rick grabbing the arm of a young officer and twisting his weapon in Gibbs' direction.

There was a moment of suspended time, when he wasn't sure what would happen next – he had no opportunity to draw his own gun or jump to safety.

The sound of a gunshot and Rick's lifeless body falling to the ground set time in motion again. Fornell lowered his weapon, gazing impassively at the gaping hole in the side of Rick's head.

Gibbs and his friend locked eyes, the slight nod of appreciation imperceptible to most. There was nothing else necessary. Justice had been served.

With a few quick steps Gibbs knelt by the side of Ziva and McGee, who was being checked out by a pair of paramedics that had cut through his agent's pants and were applying a pressure bandage to the wound. Tim's face was pasty white and covered with sweat; he held Ziva's hand tightly.

"Is he going to be ok?" Gibbs asked.

The middle-aged EMT nodded. "We need to get him transported, sir. It's a nasty wound and the bullet's still in there, so he's going to need surgery."

The lead agent locked his gaze onto McGee's noting the boy's fear stricken face. "You'll be fine, Tim, and you'll have a hell of a story to tell Tony one day. You've got nothing to worry about, ok?"

Tim nodded shakily. "Ok….ok, Boss," he agreed. Gibbs gave him a supportive pat on the arm as they moved him to a stretcher. "Ziva, go with him," Gibbs ordered.

Fornell appeared behind them. "Let Ziva stay here; I'll ride with McGee," he offered, casting a nervous glance at the ambulance, his face bathed in the flashing lights. His lips were drawn into a puckered frown as he kept glancing at the movements of the paramedics who were lifting McGee into the vehicle.

Ziva raised an eyebrow, but Gibbs didn't have the energy or desire to figure out what was up with the FBI agent. Instead he accepted the suggestion.

"Fine. Call if you need anything. Ziva and I will work the scene. Maybe….." He licked his lips. "Maybe we'll find something to lead us to DiNozzo."

Fornell turned to leave and Gibbs grabbed his arm. "Thanks."

His friend gave him a small smile. "I couldn't let the bastard shoot you; who would I complain about Diane to?" He went to the waiting ambulance and hopped inside.

Gibbs stood quietly for a moment, gathering his resolve before walking toward the entrance to the warehouse. They had come so far and he had believed they would find Tony and now…. Maybe Rick had lied and Tony was inside. He picked up his pace and in a few strides he was running. He didn't say a word, aware that Ziva had fallen into step by his side.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Ziva watched Gibbs standing in the room filled with cages, staring at the empty boxes. She wondered what he was thinking. He walked past each one, touching it before moving on. At the end of the row he stopped again, back straight as an arrow and his arms hanging at his sides. Soundlessly he walked through the room and out the door.

The Israeli followed him. They searched through every room, but just like at the compound there was little left behind to indicate where Tony might have been taken. In the main room they discovered a stage surrounded by rows and rows of chairs. The auditorium would seat hundreds. Gibbs stood in the center of the stage, kneeling at the spot where a ring was embedded in the floor. He reached out a gloved hand and lifted the heavy ring, letting it fall back with a thud. Standing, he turned to look out over the sea of chairs.

Ziva entered a control room filled with electrical equipment. She flipped a switch and several spotlights turned on; Gibbs covered his eyes against the blinding light.

"Sorry," she yelled, turning the lights back off. Gibbs jumped from the stage and ran up the aisle to join her. He scanned the various monitors trying to locate something.

"McGee would know what the hell to look for," he mumbled, smacking his hand on a table. He turned to face her and she was glad that years in her father's presence had prepared her to stand up to the penetrating glare. "Do you see a video feed? They probably taped the auction."

Studying the machines, she pushed a few buttons and scratched her head when nothing happened. Placing her hands on her hips she stepped back and assessed every switch and gizmo. Inspiration hit her and she took out her phone, glad Abby was on speed dial because Gibbs looked ready to start ripping monitors out of the walls.

"Abby," she said quickly, cutting off the stream of questions that started immediately. "I need you to help me find something. We are looking for a video feed and Gibbs and I really do not know what to make of all these devices."

"Where's McGee? Can't he tell you?" Her question held an edge to it, and Ziva reminded herself for the thousandth time to never underestimate the scientist.

"He is busy right now," she stalled, before describing the array of equipment. With her usual efficiency, Abby guided her to a row of buttons. After pushing several a screen blinked to life. Ziva pulled a chair in front of the monitor, and Gibbs stood behind her. She played with the controls until she figured out how to rewind the picture, stealing her resolve as the grainy image of slave after slave sped by. Even running backwards and jumping from scene to scene, the abuse they were being subjected to was appallingly clear. All too soon she recognized a familiar physique with light brown hair. Glancing over her shoulder at Gibbs, she stopped the recording and let it play at the correct speed.

She could practically feel Gibbs go stiff and unmoving, frozen like a moth in a web. Swallowing and blinking back tears, she watched the auction of her friend who was humiliated and assaulted while the audience hooted and cheered his degradation. Tony seemed slightly confused and out of it, and she suspected he was drugged which might be a godsend. When he was shoved over a stool and exposed to the crowd, she choked back a horrified sob. Gibbs continued to watch without any sign of emotion, as immobile as a statue.

As the torment continued, Ziva gagged and jumped out of her seat, barely holding the vomit down until she found herself on her knees draped over a garbage can. For several minutes she couldn't think beyond the burning bile rushing out of her throat. When her stomach finally calmed down, Gibbs was sitting next to her with his hand on her back, rubbing up and down her spine in long soothing strokes.

"You alright?" he asked, his blue eyes filled with concern.

She sniffed, realizing that her face was covered in sweat and tears. He pushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face and then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. With tender care he wiped her skin and then wrapped his hand around the back her neck, drawing her close. They leaned against the wall, and for the first time since Tali died, Ziva had to fight to keep herself from dissolving into another bout of tears.

"I am sorry," she apologized when she felt steady enough. "I should not have let that happen. I did not know…."

Gibbs patted her knee, his eyes far away and sad. "I have to find him, Ziva. I can't let him live like that."

"I understand," she agreed solemnly. "It is good that Rick is already dead. It would have been difficult to leave him alive."

Gibbs snorted and lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. She had never seen him cry, and even now found the idea of it mildly disturbing. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes as if in great pain. When he opened them the hurt was replaced by something more familiar – cold, hard, steal.

He leveraged himself off the floor and held out his hand to her. "We've got work to do." Lifting her to her feet, they closed off their hearts and started collecting evidence, just like all the other crime scenes they had worked countless times before.

The only difference was this one meant so much more.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's Notes: **_We are getting closer to the happy ending! Tony makes it home, with a few complications of course. Forgive any geographical errors.

**Chapter 20**

The elevator doors opened and McGee hobbled through them, maneuvering his crutches so he could carefully hop over to his desk without putting any weight on his injured leg. It was amazing how much effort was required to compensate for the wound in his thigh that continued to throb with each and every jarring step. He hadn't taken any pain medication since the night before in order to have a fresh and clear mind and he was paying a high price for the clarity. He bit back a groan and dragged himself another foot closer to his desk. After three days, two of which had been in the hospital, he was barely able to get around on his own.

Abby said they had been trying to track Nakamura's whereabouts without much success. She hadn't intentionally implied that he was needed to help in the search, yet that was the message he'd received. The doctor had written him off work for another week and insisted he stay in bed as much as possible and keep his leg propped up at all times. The agony in Abby's eyes when she had haltingly described what she had seen in the video of Tony's auction had done him in, and there was no way he could sit at home lounging on pillows while his partner – his friend – was systematically tortured and abused.

He wasn't one to brag, unless Tony goaded him into it of course, but when it came to tracking someone using the myriad of trails left in the cyber world, he was the very best around. He could make connections and see pathways that others overlooked. Tony was always telling him to think outside the box, and that's what he intended to do, for as long as he had to until he found where Nakamura was hiding. Tony might be an overbearing playboy sometimes, but there was no one more loyal when things turned bad and he wanted to return the favor. He wanted to bring Tony home.

In his own offbeat way Tony had taught him more about the ins and outs of being an agent than even Gibbs; the thought of DiNozzo in the hands of Nakamura made his stomach churn.

He gingerly lowered himself into his chair and turned on his computer, arranging his leg at an angle so that it didn't ache quite so much. The seconds it took for him to key in his password and get the programs running took an eternity. As soon as the system was open he started typing, eyes darting back and forth and fingers flashing across the keys. He was so lost in the information scrolling past him that he didn't notice the person who snuck up quietly beside him until a hot chocolate appeared on his desk.

McGee smiled and picked up the cup. "Thanks, Abs. How'd you know I was here?"

She perched on the corner of his desk, twirling a lank ponytail around her finger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her smile. "I got a call from someone asking me to come look for you. Wanna guess who?"

He frowned in thought. If it was the person he had in mind it was not a good thing to have been found out so soon. "Fornell?" he ventured.

"Right on the first try. What's going on with the two of you?" she pried gently.

Tim didn't know how to answer because he wasn't sure himself, so he shrugged noncommittally. "He's been coming by the past few days, bringing me food and making sure I don't try to move around too much. I left before he showed up this morning." He flicked his eyes up at her, trying to ascertain what she was thinking. He felt strangely defensive. "He's a nice guy."

"Really," Abby cooed softly, and it seemed for a minute she might start teasing him about the surprising friendship. However, her crestfallen face never managed to show any spark and she hunched her shoulders dismally. "Have you found anything yet?"

The corners of his mouth twitched up. "I've only been here about fifteen minutes, Abby. It'll probably take a while longer. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"Oh," she responded sadly. She pressed her lips together, her green eyes moist with unshed tears. "Are you going to watch the video?"

McGee had considered it, but didn't know if there was any legitimate reason to see it. He didn't want to view it to just be a voyeur to his friend's misery. Even the mention of it made the super stoic Ziva tear up, which told him more than he needed to know.

"Is there anything on it that might help me trace Nakamura?" he asked.

Abby shook her head silently as if afraid to speak.

"Then I don't think I will," he replied firmly. "Tony's lost too much privacy already."

Abby gave him her most bittersweet smile. "You're a good friend, Tim. You don't think being here today will be too much for you? The doctor said you should stay in bed."

"As long as I type with my fingers and not my toes I think I'll be fine," he answered with a quick grin. "Where's Ziva?"

"She's down in the evidence locker going over everything again. It's a long shot, but right now we don't have anything."

He met her gaze with his own serious countenance. "Gibbs?" His boss had visited once while he was in the hospital and he hadn't seen the man since. There was no telling what Gibbs had decided to do in the past few days.

She sighed. "He's in and out at all hours. Right now he's up in MTAC with Vance. I doubt he's slept more than five minutes since we got back." Abby's face fell even more at the mention of her beloved boss. "I'm really worried about him."

"Then I guess I'd better find Nakamura. So let me get back to work." He gave her a playful shove.

Abby paused before grabbing Tony's empty chair and moving it beside McGee's being careful not to bump his leg; she plopped down. "Mind if I stay? I'll be quiet," she promised. "I don't really want to be alone and I've processed every piece of evidence three times. There isn't anything left for me to do and when I'm by myself all I can think about is that video…." Her voice trailed off quietly.

Tim couldn't say no to her even if he'd wanted to. He couldn't deny that having her around made him feel better, too. "You can stay, but only if you let me concentrate," he said with false severity.

"Scout's honor," she promised, holding up her fingers in a mock salute.

McGee took her at her word and went back to work, letting himself get drawn into a puzzle of phone numbers, addresses, and financial records. He was once again oblivious to outside stimuli when Abby shook his arm, causing him to look up.

"I'm trying to figure something out, Abby, I asked you to be quiet…." He finally saw the figure looming over his computer. "Oh….hey."

Fornell did not look like a happy man; he folded his arms and pursed his lips. "I thought you were supposed to be resting?"

"I decided I could rest just as easy here and get some work done at the same time. See?" He pointed at his leg that was currently propped on Abby's lap. The scientist smiled angelically.

"You should have called – I would have driven you over," the FBI agent chided in a way that made Tim blush slightly and his heart beat faster. Abby was staring at him with an odd expression like he was something she might find on a very interesting microscopic slide. He swallowed and tried to maintain some sense of composure.

"I, uh, well, I guess I didn't think about it," McGee finally stuttered.

Fornell leaned down next to his ear. "Think about it next time." He straightened up. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"I took a cab," Tim responded quickly, hoping that would be considered a good idea. Fornell's face lightened up a bit and McGee felt himself relax a little.

"Good. I'll drive you home. Where's Jethro?" Fornell changed the subject and looked around the bullpen.

"MTAC," Abby supplied helpfully coming somewhat out of her morose mood. She gave McGee a small knowing smile.

Fornell nodded and jogged to the stairs, passing Ziva on the way.

"What is going on with him?" she asked. "He looks like the cat that ate the….um what is it?" Her brow wrinkled. "Mouse?" She shook her head. "That is not right…."

"Canary," McGee corrected testily, unwilling to turn his head from his computer screen.

"Is there something going on I should know about?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at Abby.

"I think there's something definitely going on with Tim and Fornell," Abby suggested.

"No there isn't!" McGee protested, staring angrily at the two women who giggled softly. "Now will you two please be quiet so I can try to help find Tony! You haven't forgotten about him, have you?"

Abby's eyes grew wide at the accusation. "Of course not!" She lowered his foot to the floor and jumped up, her lips parted like she wanted to say something. "I'll be in the lab," was all she managed to mumble before turning on her platform heels and rushing to the elevator.

"Abby…." McGee called after her, afraid she was crying again. "Come back! I'm sorry!" He tried to shift his weight and lean after her, but the movement sent a sharp pain through his thigh. "Damnit, Abby!" The elevator doors were already closed and she was gone. "I didn't mean to upset her," he explained to Ziva who had folded her arms disapprovingly.

"I know; we are all stressed about Tony. Have you had any luck?"

He hated to ruin the hopeful look on her face so he exaggerated some. "I've got a few leads, but nothing solid yet. I'll get a break but it's going to take some time."

"Yes, time." She sat down at her desk and twirled a paper clip in her fingers, her eyes lingering on Tony's empty desk. There was nothing more to say.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance opened the door to MTAC and allowed Fornell inside. The two men exchanged worried glances. "How is he doing?" the FBI agent inquired.

With a shake of his head, the Director gazed over at the silver haired man who was standing in the middle of the room watching several video feeds play out on the large screen. The only move he made was to sip from the coffee cup he had been clutching for the last few hours. Vance knew the coffee had to be cold long ago, yet Gibbs kept drinking it; Vance wasn't sure if Gibbs wanted the coffee or if swallowing the nasty brew was so much habit he didn't even think about the action.

"He's been here for the past three days; I've tried to get him to go home but he won't budge. I doubt if he's slept at all." Vance's tone was uncharacteristically worried. "I know he's Gibbs, and some might consider it to be sacrilegious to question his stamina, but I'm not sure how much longer he can go on like this."

Fornell sighed. "Longer than most. I'll see what I can do."

He quietly went over to stand with his friend; Vance followed behind feeling strangely protective of the older agent. He and Gibbs weren't always the best of friends, yet he respected the man and didn't want to see him run himself into a state of exhaustion.

"When was the last time you went home?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs didn't bother to look at him. "What do you want Tobias? Are you here to tell me to go home and take a nap while Tony's missing?"

Fornell's eyes narrowed in challenge. "A few hours sleep won't change anything."

Gibbs blinked but didn't turn his head. "No. I have to be here."

Vance watched Fornell place a hand on Gibbs' arm, an action he would have never considered in the lead agent's current state of mind. "At least go lay down in the conference room. Eat something. If you collapse it won't help Tony either," he insisted.

Gibbs snorted derisively. "Why don't you go check on McGee again? He's safe and sound downstairs."

Fornell's head jerked in Gibbs' direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gibbs' jaw clenched. "How would you feel if he was in Tony's place? Would you take a break? Even for five minutes?"

Glancing over his shoulder to catch Vance's reaction, Fornell cast his eyes downward. The Director wasn't sure what was going on with the FBI agent and McGee, but it was clear there was something brewing. Regardless, the comment made Fornell back down some. "Just go to the conference room. Someone will wake you if they find anything." He squeezed Gibbs' shoulder. "I promise."

Vance was surprised to see Gibbs' body slump; the fatigue he had been holding at bay seemed to diffuse through his body all at once. "Thirty minutes," he agreed reluctantly. "And you get me immediately if there's any information at all."

Fornell smiled. "Come on." He led his friend out of the darkened room and Vance followed them, standing at the railing until they walked out of sight. He wondered what it was like to really be Gibbs' friend and doubted he would ever know; they didn't have enough in common and had too much distrust between them. He was surprised at the depth of feeling Gibbs seemed to have for DiNozzo; the two men had always had a bond but it was not something he would have considered to be in the category of love. The way Gibbs had responded to Tony's disappearance went way beyond partners or friends. Jackie was definitely right about them; and now Fornell and McGee? He observed the junior agent working at his computer, glancing around occasionally. Vance wondered if the young man was trying to find Fornell.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at the developing relationship. Fornell was a striking man with a strong personality; a sub like McGee would thrive with that type of Dom. He hoped they got a chance, unlike Tony and Gibbs.

Every day that passed made it less and less likely Tony would ever come home. Gibbs was a pillar of strength in most cases, but he didn't think the man could survive the death of another seminal person in his life. From all accounts the passing of Shannon and Kelly had nearly destroyed him.

Sometimes things just weren't fair. He made his way back into his office to call Jackie; right now he really needed to hear the sound of her voice.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"I've got something." McGee stopped typing and glanced over top of his computer.

Ziva stood and met his gaze, her body stiff with control that held back too much excitement. "What?" She approached the desk and leaned over his shoulder, her hand on the back of his chair.

"Since the warehouse had a port attached I've traced all the luxury yachts that were in New Orleans during the time of the auction; none of them were directly linked to Nakamura. So I decided to focus on any that were registered under the Japanese flag. That narrowed it down a lot – I only had to research three." He was in recitation mode, stating the information like a list of facts. The words spilled out quickly, as he shifted carefully in his chair.

"Did any of those belong to Nakamura?" Ziva asked, peering more closely at the screen, her eyes squinting at the tiny numbers. McGee picked up the remote control and transferred the image onto the big screen so they could look at it together. A picture of an enormous yacht appeared in front of them. "Very nice," Ziva commented.

"I had to trace through about a dozen holding companies, but eventually determined that the business filing ownership of this particular vessel is owned by one of Nakamura's companies. I also discovered that the ship has been in port in New Orleans several times over the last few years and always at the same location; the warehouse where Tony disappeared," he explained.

"So are we to assume that Nakamura took Tony away on that yacht? Is there any way to track them?" The worry in her voice was undisguised.

McGee tightened his lips. "Nakamura's cell phone was last used a few hours before we arrived at the warehouse." The agent turned back to his computer. "He made a call to someone in Japan; it would make sense that he was heading back there."

Ziva drew her eyebrows down thoughtfully. "What kind of home does he have in Japan?"

Tim moved back to his computer; the search only took a few minutes before a palatial mansion popped on the big screen. "His home is secured like a fort – he would have no trouble hiding Tony there." McGee clicked the remote a few times, zooming in to explore the various buildings and structures that were nestled into a hillside.

"Do you think he would sail all the way to Japan from New Orleans? How long would that take?" She paced around the small area between their desks, her arms folded.

"I don't know, but it would be the best way to transport a slave without worrying about getting caught. I'm still not sure how to find them, though. They could be anywhere." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his thigh; the pain was starting to shoot up into his hip and no matter how he readjusted his leg nothing seemed to help.

"Here." He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until Ziva nudged his arm and held out a bottle of water. He took it from her gratefully.

"Do you need me to find Fornell so he can take you home?"

"No!" McGee responded with more force than necessary. Now was not the time to give up and if Fornell knew he was hurting the older man might try to make him leave. Not that Fornell really had any say in what he did, but somehow the guy had sort of taken on the job of being his keeper. He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the pain. "I'm fine, Ziva. I just need to take a break and rest a few minutes….." He put the water down and sat up straighter.

"What? Did you think of something?"

McGee nodded, his fingers once again stabbing at his keyboard. "They'll need to stop somewhere for supplies. There's no way they could make that lengthy of a trip without coming into port along the way. I just have to find their credit card activity. It won't be a precise location, but it should get us closer than we are now."

Ziva was once again leaning over his shoulder, her long hair dangling by his ear. "Would Nakamura use his own credit card?"

"Doubtful. They'll probably use a card issued to one of his companies, which means a lot of transactions to sift through. It might take a few hours, but I'll find which one now that I know what I'm looking for."

Ziva patted his back and went to her own desk; she stared at her screen for a few minutes. "Nakamura is a very sadistic man. I am afraid for what he is doing to Tony."

McGee stopped his typing. "Yeah. Abby says the video is pretty brutal."

Ziva bit her upper lip and sniffed. "We will find Tony, kill Nakamura, and Gibbs will make sure that he is alright. Yes?"

McGee couldn't disagree with her, even the killing Nakamura part. The bastard deserved to die. "Yes," he concurred, and returned to sifting data that could spell the difference between life and death for their partner.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Laughter rang through Gibbs' ears and he looked to find the sound. It was beautiful - a soft, rich alto laced with joy, love, and passion; he hadn't heard anything as gorgeous in more years than he cared to count. The laugh was accompanied by a giggle so sweet it was like wind chimes on a spring day and it made his heart ache with longing to see the little girl making the sound. Another laugh joined the two – low, deep, and filled with pure happiness. It melded with the other voices in perfect harmony.

He found them together bathed in a beam of light. Tony was holding Kelly in the air and swinging her around while she squealed in delight. Shannon stood nearby beaming with pleasure, her face flushed with a warm glow. When Kelly shrieked and giggled, Gibbs found he was smiling, too.

Shannon saw him and her eyes widened. "Jethro," she whispered. Tony stopped tickling Kelly and turned to face him, holding Gibbs' daughter's hand in his own.

"Daddy!" Kelly squealed.

"Hey, pumpkin," he replied, wishing he could go over and hold her but for some reason he was frozen in place.

"Boss," Tony said, green eyes twinkling. "You never told me they were so pretty."

Shannon picked up Tony's other hand. "Tony's being modest; he's very handsome, Jethro."

Gibbs' voice stuck in his throat. Seeing them together, so happy, so beautiful, so alive – it was more than he could bear. "I've missed all of you so much."

"We miss you, too," Kelly said. The light around them was growing dim and their images became indistinct as they faded away, until all he could hear were their voices.

"Jethro, wake up!"

Blinking his eyes, Gibbs found Fornell staring down at him. "McGee has a lead. I think he might have found Nakamura."

Gibbs swung his legs off the couch and sat up, the sound of laughter ringing in his ears. Shannon and Kelly were lost to him except in dreams, but while there was still a chance he could have Tony in his life he was going to do everything possible to make that happen.

Shannon and Kelly would want him to be happy, he knew that now.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony clutched his chest as the latest round of coughs ripped through him. He had gotten better for a while when the doctor had treated him at the auction house, but after a few days with Nakamura the tightness and congestion had returned with a vengeance. He was familiar with what pneumonia felt like, and he was sure he had a pretty good case of it.

All the coughing didn't help the ribs Nakamura had finished cracking the first night he had been forced to spend in the crazy man's stateroom. He'd been strung up like a side of beef and beaten within an inch of his life. Nakamura possessed an intense rage that grew worse as the night wore on and it became apparent what caused his anger and frustration.

No matter what Nakamura tried, he couldn't perform. Even naked, tied up, bruised and beaten, Tony couldn't stop himself from laughing at the short little man trying to get his tiny dick hard. Each time Nakamura failed, he hit Tony again using every whip, flogger, and strap in his possession; eventually resorting to more cruel methods of releasing his fury.

Coughing again, Tony rubbed his hands over the tiny burns on his arms that had started to scab over but still oozed pus and blood. The small butane lighter hadn't looked like much, yet the white hot flame had done a hell of a job on his unprotected flesh. The memory of the smell and pain was enough to make nausea rise in his belly and he retched a little before getting his queasiness under control. Nakamura was a sadist if there ever was one, and after hours of abusing Tony he'd finally managed to get hard enough to jack off. It had been an incredible relief to see the spurting cum that indicated his torment was over for a while.

He scooted back against the wall of the tiny room they had locked him in letting his hand lay limply on his flat stomach. The boat rocked back and forth on the open water, the movement not helping him to feel any better. He would have given anything for a blanket, a pillow, or a cup of water. Unfortunately there was nothing in the room except a chain attached to his ankle and a ring in the wall. It allowed him to move around some, even stand and look out the tiny porthole, and he guessed he should be glad for the opportunity to see the sun in the daytime and the stars at night. Pulling himself up to the window, he looked outside. The sky this evening was cloudless, a pale blue the color of Gibbs' eyes, and in any other setting it might have been beautiful.

Another cough tore his chest in half and left him gasping with tears rolling down his cheeks from the strain; unable to support himself on shaky legs he slid back down to the floor.

His eyes darted to the door when the handle turned. They were coming for him again. Gibbs would expect him to endure whatever they did to him, to buy time until he was rescued, but it was getting so damn hard.

He didn't for a second believe that Gibbs was dead even though Nakamura taunted him with the idea day after day. He prayed for a chance to see Gibbs again; there was so much more he wanted to say and so many misunderstandings he needed to clear up. They had wasted so much time, and now there was every possibility his time had run out.

The door opened a crack and Tony found himself pressing harder into the wall. There was nowhere to hide or run; he couldn't escape whatever they had planned for him today. But that didn't mean he would submit to it. He'd realized over the past few weeks that submission couldn't be forced, it had to be earned. These men couldn't break him or train him, because there was nothing that could ever make him bend to their will. Gibbs was the only one who had ever deserved that from him and he wouldn't desecrate that gift by giving it to someone else he despised.

A fat Asian man the size of a sumo wrestler squeezed through the tiny doorway, his beady eyes locking on to Tony and an evil smile splitting his swollen face. He had on a pair of loose pants, a gun belt, and no shirt, his fleshy rolls cascading down his body in doughy waves. His head was the size of a pumpkin and shaved totally bald, with more layers of fat circling his chin and the back of his head.

Tony managed to work up a grin for him. "Hey, sweet cheeks."

The man lumbered forward and smacked him, bouncing Tony's head off the hard wall. "Slaves do not speak without permission."

Tony tried to pull himself together, shaking away the pounding in his skull. "Just because Nakamura bought me doesn't make me his slave."

The mountain sized man grunted in disagreement. "Get up; the master wants to see you."

There wasn't any use to refuse so Tony struggled to his feet. His guard unhooked the chain from his ankle and shoved him in the direction of the door. Stumbling and coughing, Tony grasped his midsection, not sure what hurt worse, his stomach or his chest.

He could predict the torture Nakamura had in store for him tonight and he doubted he would be able to take it, even if he wanted to. The best he could do was go out in style like he'd lived his life, with a glib remark and sarcastic smile. If he got lucky, maybe he could get in a punch or two on his tormentors; that would be icing on the cake.

Unexpectedly his legs went weak and he collapsed to the floor, his lungs seizing up and erupting in spasms of coughing. He couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't even move for several minutes, until he felt the large hands lifting him off the ground and dragging him the remaining few feet to Nakamura's room. They forced him onto his knees and attached his wrist and ankle cuffs to anchors in the floor that forced his legs apart and left him unable to stand. He still hadn't managed to get his breathing under control; the world danced around him in an array of colors and the agony in his chest was so bad he kept trying to pull his arms free even though he knew they would only move a few inches.

"_Please,"_ he whispered silently, but refused to let the word escape his lips. He wouldn't resort to begging regardless of the abuse. He was stubborn enough to not give them the satisfaction. The crazy Asian grabbed his chin roughly and forced him to look up into dark, demented eyes.

"Defective!" Nakamura spat, smacking him while ranting to the obese guard who stood in the corner with his arms folded across his protruding stomach. "I will demand a complete refund! He is in poor health and isn't trained at all! I will see that Rick never sells another slave again."

"Not….a…..slave," Tony rasped between jagged coughs, glaring at his captor.

"You are whatever I say you are!" Nakamura shouted, backhanding him so hard his lip split and the side of his face throbbed. "I am your owner and you will do as I say!"

Tony leaned forward on his hands to hold himself up. His shoulders heaved as he collected his waning strength. If Gibbs was going to swoop in and save the day, he needed to do it soon. The boat rolled, and Tony's gaze went to the window and the endless sea beyond. He had to stop kidding himself, he was beyond the reach of even Leroy Jethro Gibbs and this time there would be no second chances. His attention was drawn back to the man undressing in front of him and he shuddered, unclear if it was disgust or the cold air on the fine layer of sweat covering his skin that made him tremble.

Nakamura put his hands on his hips and spread his feet shoulder width apart, his cock lying limply between his legs.

"You will make me excited. It is your duty to perform!"

The thought of putting that puny dick in his mouth made Tony nearly gag. "I can't perform miracles. Haven't you got any little blue pills?" Agitating Nakamura wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but it made him feel a little better nevertheless.

"I do not want a pill! I want to fuck you like a man!" He pressed his crotch close to Tony's face. "Wrap those lips around my dick and get me hard or Taka will make you sorry."

Tony turned his head to the side and refused to open his mouth, stifling the urge to cough that was building in intensity. He wasn't prepared for the blunt pain on his back when Taka hit him with a thick strap. "Do not disobey your master!"

Pain radiated through Tony's back, forcing him to take tiny breaths and bite down a whimper. Nakamura laughed. "Are you ready to cooperate, boy?" the man asked, leaning close to Tony's face. "You are so pretty when you fight me." He kissed Tony harshly on the lips and pulled away, eyes lethal. Blood from Tony's mouth smeared his own and he licked it from his lips.

Nakamura turned to his assistant. "Hand me the chains." Taka reached in a box and removed a shiny gold chain that he draped into Nakamura's hand. The Dom held it out so Tony could see the heavy weights dangling from each end and in the middle. With his free hand he gripped the sensitive nipple rings, tugging them harshly. Tony now had a matching set, thanks to his new owner who had added the second piercing the night he had been bought.

Tony leaned his head back and blinked at the stinging sensation. Nakamura attached the end of the chain to first one nipple ring and then the other, allowing the weights to dangle off both nipples and pull down the chain in the middle. It created a burn that kept building to a smoldering agony. Nakamura pulled on the chain so hard it felt like his nipples were going to be ripped off. In the fog of his mind he wondered if this could ever be erotic under different circumstances; his flaccid penis had no interest whatsoever.

Nakamura wasn't giving up. "Get me hard, slave, and show me what that lovely mouth is good for."

Without thinking Tony shook his head in refusal and earned another series of whacks on the back and torso with the heavy leather strap. This time he couldn't stop the cries of misery and was barely able to hold himself up under the onslaught.

When Taka grabbed his head in his fat hands and held his face so he couldn't move away, he didn't struggle anymore. It was taking all his concentration to draw in enough air to stay conscious. It barely registered when he was forced to accept Nakamura's dick in his mouth. The soft flesh rolled on his tongue and the acrid smell of arousal clogged his nostrils; his lungs spasmed and he choked as skin and hair shoved its way into his face and Nakamura started slamming forward and back, trying to fuck his mouth.

"Suck it, you piece of shit! Suck it and make me hard!"

Taka laughed, the deep rolling thunder of his entertainment echoing in Tony's ears and adding to his humiliation. His eyes watered, a cough built and for a moment he wanted to die rather than be treated like something no longer human.

Without concern for his own safety, Tony spit the offending organ out of his mouth and started hacking, doubling over with the effort.

Nakamura screamed in fury and kicked Tony in the ribs, sending shooting knives through his chest; a second kick set loose shards of pain that convinced him he really was about to die. He thought he'd been stabbed and sagged over on his side, his arms twisted by the cuffs hooked to the floor and his restrained legs making it impossible to fall down completely. Every breath was agony and he couldn't take in enough air to even plead for mercy.

This was not the way he wanted his life to end; naked and helpless at the hands of an insane monster. Giving his life for one of his teammates or in the line of duty; he could've accepted that kind of death. This was pointless, meaningless, and amounted to nothing.

"Get him back into position," Nakamura commanded. He was lifted onto his knees, this time shoved onto his hands and his ass lifted into the air. "Hand me the dildo."

"_No,"_ Tony screamed in his own mind. _"God, no." _Hands groped his ass and pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole.

"Stop," Tony said weakly, the pain in his chest making it nearly impossible to speak. "I can't….I can't breathe." He swayed and pitched forward, everything around him turning grey.

"Unhook the restraints!" Nakamura ranted, nearly out of control. Taka realeased his limbs and rolled him over on his back while he wheezed. It was too much. Tony could feel something break inside and he gave up, his entire body overwhelmed with inescapable pain.

Hot tears splashed down his cheeks and he just wanted it to be over. He couldn't fight any more, couldn't pretend it was going to be alright. All the air in the room seemed to have disappeared and he couldn't get any of it into his damaged lungs. He'd do anything they wanted if they'd just let him die when it was finished.

They were touching him again. He tried to flail away but Taka held him firm and wouldn't allow him to move. The agonized cry that came from his throat sounded animalistic, which was what he had become.

There was another sound, far away, that called for his attention but he couldn't focus with everything happening to him. It sounded like fireworks, then shouting, followed by more popping sounds.

Gunfire.

Tala said something in Japanese that seemed urgent, but Nakamura wasn't listening, he was too intent on shoving Tony into place so he could continue his assault.

Then the sounds were in the room with him, Taka lost his grip on his shoulders and Tony fell flat on his face into a pool of blood and brain that oozed from the fat man's blown apart head. Tony stared into lifeless eyes that were inches from his own in the floor.

Nakamura was screaming again, his voice high and shrill like a Chihuahua, and in his limited vision Tony saw the vile Asian backing across the floor while another pair of feet followed him slowly, each step measured and deliberate. Nakamura put his hands up in surrender, and even though Tony couldn't speak Japanese he recognized the sound of begging.

A gun was lifted and held up to Nakamura's forehead and the Asian pleaded more frantically, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

Tony couldn't make out who was holding the weapon. Most of his energy was devoted to each shallow breath he pulled into his lungs. He blinked back the darkness, wanting to know what was happening, afraid to believe this might be rescue.

The gun wavered, and Nakamura stopped speaking, letting blessed silence fall over them. Seconds ticked by, before the gun finally dropped and Nakamura sank to his knees, sobbing.

"Get him out of my sight." The voice was rougher and lower than normal, but Tony would have known it anywhere. His already haggard breathing hitched in his chest as he choked back his own tears.

Nakamura sagged in relief, met his eyes, and the corners of his mouth tipped in a hint of a smile. He had all the money in the world, and it wouldn't be difficult to buy his freedom.

Tony's mind went blank, and he watched his own hand remove the gun at Taka's waist as if the appendage belonged to someone else. With a monumental effort he pushed himself onto one knee; Nakamura shook his head and waved his hands frantically. "Stop him," the Asian said, speaking to someone behind him.

"Tony, put the gun down."

The words were soft and clear, it was Gibbs' voice and he should obey.

The gun shook; he was barely able to hold it. Nakamura's lips pressed together and he took several quick breaths. This was the only way to end the nightmare forever. The shot reverberated and the force of the bullet pushed the slave owner into the wall, blood smearing behind him and seeping into his shirt over his heart.

Tony dropped the gun and it clattered to the floor; he collapsed beside it, boneless and numb.

Gibbs was there, gently cradling him. "It's ok now, it's alright." Soft words were murmered over and over, trying to calm him as he felt himself disintegrating into hysteria. His entire body was shaking violently and he had never been so cold in his life.

"I'm going to take care of everything, ok?" Gibbs pushed his matted hair back and kissed him on the forehead, and he suddenly lost whatever tenuous control he had maintained over his emotions, his sobbing mixed in with jagged gasps for air.

With a tenderness he could have never imagined, he was lifted up and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and then he was pressed against a solid chest that assured him of safety and protection. He had no strength of his own so he let the strong arms hold him steady, and he cried harder when he was enveloped by the smell of sawdust and coffee mingled together and surrounding him.

Light kisses brushed his hair and he was rocked like a child. "Shhh….it's over, it's all over." The soothing mantra was repeated until his heaving tears slowed and he hung limply in the firm embrace.

"We need to check him out, Gibbs." The words floated around him like echoes from the bottom of a deep well.

"I know." He could hear the response rumble in Gibbs' chest along with the steady beat of the older man's heart. As Gibbs shifted to hand Tony over he panicked, eyes flying open in abject terror.

"No…," he whispered in a thin, weak voice laced with desperation. "Don't…leave." He clutched Gibbs as tightly as he could, his fingers curled into his shirt. "Please…" He was so far beyond caring if he sounded pathetic that nothing mattered except keeping Gibbs with him.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs consoled him, letting a hand brush through his hair. "But we gotta let them fix you up, ok? You don't look so good."

Tony tried to smile but started coughing, and then a flurry of activity ensued that left him swaddled on a gurney with an IV in one arm, a blood pressure cuff on the other, and an oxygen mask strapped to his face. The entire time Gibbs held his hand or touched his arm, never leaving his line of sight and staying in physical contact as much as possible. He caught a glimpse of Fornell, Ziva, and McGee hovering in the hallway. He found comfort in their presence even though he hated them seeing him so broken and helpless; for some reason it brought another swell of tears to his eyes.

A hand stroked his forehead and he looked up into Gibbs' strangely concerned face. He graced Tony with the crooked smile he loved so much. "We're going to fly you to the hospital now, Tony. I'll go, too – the rest of the team will catch up later." Tony blinked and nodded, unable to fully comprehend that the ordeal was finally over. One of the medics said something to Gibbs who answered and then leaned back to Tony. "They're going to give you some medicine to help you relax. Don't worry; I won't go anywhere even when you fall asleep. Understand?"

Tony slipped his hand from under the blanket and held it up. Gibbs saw and took it, wrapping his calloused fingers around Tony's. "Let me take care of everything. You sleep for now." The medic shot something into the IV and Tony felt his eyes grow heavy and was grateful to feel some of the pain lessen. Tony fought to stay awake, but as he lost the battle he heard Gibbs whisper, "I love you, too, Tony," before he succumbed to a mantle of darkness.

_NCISNCISNCIS  
><em>

"Agent Gibbs?"

He turned away from the window and the red glow of the sunrise to look at the nurse who was standing behind him smiling kindly. Her name was Lucia, and she had been with them off and on for the past three days. She glanced down at her clip board and back up, before letting her gaze move over to the silent figure in the bed.

"How did things go last night?" she asked.

Gibbs downed the last of his coffee and followed her to stand next to her patient.

"He woke up a few times and seemed to remember where he was, seemed a little less confused." There was no need to mention all the other times Tony had surfaced to consciousness terrified and fighting them, afraid he was still at the mercy of men who had done everything to destroy him. The images were burned into his memory and he doubted he would ever forget the pain and horror etched into Tony's eyes.

"That's good," she commented, making notes from various monitors before she started checking vital signs. "His oxygen levels keep going up; I'd say we can switch to a nasal cannula before the end of the day." She gave him another sympathetic smile. "Maybe then he can start talking more."

Gibbs' hand trailed down Tony's arm that was resting on top of the blanket, carefully avoiding the multiple bandages covering the burns that marred his skin. "You might regret that."

She laughed. "So he's usually quite a talker I take it."

"Can't get him to shut up." Lucia raised the bed so Tony was sitting up more, his pale face tilted to the side. "How's the fever?"

"Going down. Another good sign. He's not out of the woods, Agent Gibbs, but I'd guess he's turned the corner and will continue to improve. It'll take a while for his fractured ribs and lungs to heal, but there shouldn't be any reason he won't completely recover in time." She raised the sheet and moved the gown to take a look at the chest tube.

"When can that come out?"

"As long as nothing changes, probably tomorrow." She cleaned around the area and put the gown and sheet back in place.

Gibbs would be glad to see the device removed even though it had helped save Tony's life. By the time they had arrived at the naval hospital, the emergency techs had already been forced to intubate just to keep Tony breathing. One of his ribs had punctured a lung which collapsed, and combined with the mild case of pneumonia it nearly caused him to stop breathing completely. The first few hours when they had been trying to stabilize him had been a harrowing time Gibbs never wanted to go through again.

Fortunately the past few days had seen a gradual improvement in DiNozzo's condition despite the fever and constant need for suctioning gunk out of his lungs. They had taken the intubation tube out so he wouldn't become dependent on the machine and to encourage coughing. Respiratory therapists had already been pounding on his back to try and loosen up the thick mucus. They had been down a similar road before with the plague, but that had been before Gibbs had known just how empty his life would be without the younger man.

And it had been without the additional complications of kidnapping and torture. The doctors had treated the cuts and burns, given him enough antibiotics to prevent infection in an elephant, evened out his electrolytes with continuous IVs, and started rebuilding his strength with several bolus of food.

But none of that would make a difference with his emotional state. No one, not even Gibbs, could predict how the experience would affect Tony psychologically. The road back might be longer and harder than any of them could imagine.

Lucia cleared her throat. "I don't mean to pry, but are you his Dom? It's none of my business, but you seem so protective of him."

Gibbs' mouth curled up slightly as he considered her question. No, he wasn't Tony's Dom, not really. With the way everything had transpired, maybe not ever. Tony had started out unsure about identifying as a submissive, and after all he had endured would be justified in never wanting to embrace that status or lifestyle. All Gibbs had the right to ask for now was that Tony recover and have the opportunity to get his life back.

Anything beyond that was more than he could consider.

"No, I'm not his Dom, just his boss. And his friend."

Lucia stared at him, clearly unconvinced by his answer. "Too bad," she finally said. "You two would make a nice couple."

The sound of Tony moaning interrupted the conversation; the nurse was instantly at his side. "I think he's waking up again."

Gibbs put his coffee down and took his place beside her, picking up Tony's hand in his own. When Tony's green eyes opened and he gazed around blearily, Gibbs stroked his sweaty forehead and smiled.

"Hey there," he greeted his senior field agent.

Tony blinked and tried to focus, but his eyes responded sluggishly. He attempted to raise his head and push himself up.  
>"Agent DiNozzo," the nurse admonished, but Gibbs could tell what Tony needed. He put a hand behind Tony's back and pushed him forward, already pounding between his shoulder blades. Lucia picked up on the situation and removed the oxygen mask, grabbing a basin so the young man could spit out whatever he was forcing out of his lungs. Several minutes of torturous coughing transpired before they could help the sick man lay down, totally spent from the ordeal.<p>

Gibbs held out a cup of water and waited patiently while Tony drank a few sips. "Tired," he whispered, his voice rough from disuse and coughing.

"I know," Gibbs replied, continuing to brush a hand through his hair. "You can rest all you want. We've got nowhere to be."

Tony forced his eyes open. "You…should go home."

"Nope. Not letting you out of my sight. It's a new rule."

The small but weak chuckle made him happier than anything had in weeks. "Too many…rules."

"You've always managed to keep them straight," Gibbs teased. He pressed his lips together, wondering if Tony was strong enough to talk about what they had experienced. The way his agent was drifting in and out convinced him the discussion would have to wait. He was content with watching Tony sleep.

"Gibbs." The green eyes slid open and pinned him down with their intensity. "Are we….is everything ok?"

Leave it to Tony to push the situation even when he was half dead. "Don't worry about anything right now, Tony. We'll take it one day at a time."

Tony bit his lip. "I…I meant what I said." He ended the statement with a cough that turned his face red and had Lucia hovering.

"He really needs to put this mask back on," she warned.

"Ok," Gibbs agreed, concerned by the way DiNozzo was gasping. "Come on, Tony, I can't have you suffocating on me."

DiNozzo tried to turn his face away, but he was outnumbered and too weak to fight them. His feeble protests left him panting, and when the mask was back on he closed his eyes and took several slow breaths, his face pinched tightly.

"Are you in pain?" Lucia asked, while taking his pulse and checking his blood pressure. Tony's eyes fluttered and he didn't try to respond.

"Hell, DiNozzo, don't be a damn martyr." The older man turned to the nurse. "Give him some medication since he's not going to tell you he needs it."

Tony managed to roll his eyes but didn't protest when she inserted a needle in the IV line. He lay quietly for a while, and Gibbs was relieved when the taut lines of pain eased in his agent's face.

Gibbs passed the time by rubbing Tony's hand, glad when the green eyes opened again. "I meant what I said, too," he offered quietly. Tony's eyes narrowed quizzically. "Do you remember what I said when I found you?"

Tony continued to frown and shook his head, his eyes barely slits as he struggled against the sleep pulling him down.

Gibbs smiled and kissed Tony's fingers. "I love you, too."

Tony's expression softened into something halfway between sorrow and relief; Gibbs swiped a thumb under his eye when several tears built up and spilled out.

"Hey, none of that," Gibbs urged. "We'll talk some more when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere." He held Tony's hand until the younger man finally drifted back to sleep.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony stared out the window at the rain streaking the glass. It had been raining ever since he returned to DC and the grey masses of clouds blotting out the sun reflected the mood in his soul. He couldn't explain the restless feeling, didn't know why he was so sullen, depressed, and angry. He didn't want to feel this way, but the mood seemed beyond his control, like so much else in his life. It had soaked into his bones like the downpour of rain had soaked into the ground.

Gibbs had called in more markers than Tony knew he was owed to get them flown back to the states and settled in a room on the respiratory care floor of Bethesda. The trip had been exhausting despite his only contribution being to lay strapped to a gurney, yet somehow the travel left him completely spent. The fatigue was pissing him off, the pain in his ribs was pissing him off, the fact no one would listen when he said he wanted to go home was pissing him off. It didn't surprise him that Gibbs had left for a while to check out things at the office; it wasn't like Tony was very good company.

They hadn't really talked much about what was going on between them, both of them reverting back to previous roles that didn't rely on words. The feelings were still there, and it was clear Gibbs loathed leaving him alone for any length of time. He had been as overprotective as a mother bear, to the point that the doctors and nurses spent more time discussing Tony's condition with the lead agent than they did with him. No one wanted to take a chance on getting on the silver haired man's bad side.

Tony wasn't sure what he thought about that. Having Gibbs nearby calmed and comforted him in a way that was almost primal; when the older man was gone he felt slightly panicky and unsure of himself. Strangers made him uncomfortable and jumpy. He'd spent decades of his life living alone, and the newly acquired nervousness was something else that pissed him off.

It was also frustrating that no one appeared inclined to let him make any of his own decisions. His constant desire to go home was soundly ignored by both Gibbs and the doctors. They said he had something called flail chest because so many ribs had been broken and it was going to take longer to heal than normal fractures. He'd been sick a few times so they still had him on a soft diet and wouldn't let him eat anything more substantial than oatmeal. Therapists pounded on his back three times a day and put him through enough breathing exercises to qualify him for the respiratory Olympics. They wouldn't even take out the damn IV since he couldn't shake the fever that had clung to him like a stalker ex-girlfriend. Even now a cold sweat prickled his skin.

Calling him irritable was an understatement.

He hadn't been able to lift himself out of his sour demeanor even when Gibbs had tried to get him to open up and talk, which might have been a sign of the end of the world. Gibbs' blue eyes had flashed in frustration, yet somehow the older man had managed to stay calm, eventually announcing his need to go to NCIS for a few hours. Tony really didn't blame him.

The last thing Gibbs told Tony was to call a nurse if he needed anything; he had yet to venture out of bed on his own. But looking at the door on the other side of the room he realized all he wanted was to get up and pee by himself, Gibbs' orders be damned. He wasn't a child and he wasn't a slave, and he could do anything he wanted to do.

Gritting his teeth he shifted his legs and let them dangle off the side of the bed. His chest screamed in protest; a week and a half after his liberation from Nakamura, his fractured ribs had barely started to heal. Pushing himself upright he gasped in agony and succumbed to a coughing fit.

"You can do this, DiNozzo," he chastised, forcing his feet to the floor and standing quickly. Sweat broke out on his body and he swayed, but refused to sink back down. Instead he stepped forward, determined to make the short trip across the floor. Gripping the IV pole he pulled it along with him. He didn't know why doing this alone mattered so much, had no idea what was so significant about refusing to ask for help. For some reason he had to do this, he had to make a choice on his own without asking for permission or waiting for assistance.

By the time he was in the middle of the room he realized his sojourn might have been a mistake. He wrapped his arm around his torso and hunched over, trying to hold himself together long enough to get to the door frame. He had just reached out his free hand toward the back of a chair when the door to his room opened and Gibbs strode inside.

The disruption threw him off balance and he fell over, hitting the floor in an ungainly heap and knocking the breath from his body.

"Shit!" he yelled, acknowledging the shooting pain in his chest. He curled into a ball and grunted.

"Damnit, DiNozzo!" Gibbs cried, dropping his coffee in the floor as he rushed to Tony's side. "What are you doing out of bed? I told you to call for a nurse!"

"I….don't need….a damn…nurse!" Tony gasped, unable to control his breathing through the shards of pain. "I can go….to the bathroom when….when I want to!"

"Not when you end up in the floor! If you can't do what you're told maybe I need to get a nurse to stick a catheter back up your dick!" Gibbs shouted, leaving Tony to go and push the call button.

Tony felt the blood drain from his face at Gibbs' threat. He ignored the pain and struggled to sit up, crawling on his hands and knees toward the bathroom. The IV line ripped free and a small stream of blood spurted onto the floor. "You can't….do that," he said, slowly moving across the linoleum. "You…can't do that."

"DiNozzo, sit still until someone comes to help us," Gibbs demanded, coming up behind him, his face drawn with worry.

Tony shook his head. "No..no…I want…to go to the….bathroom." He continued to crawl, unable to stop. Gibbs couldn't tell him what to do, no one could. And no one was touching his dick without permission.

"Tony," the tone was soft and remorseful. Gibbs knelt down next to him and put his hands on his shoulders. "Please, you need to let me help you."

Tony was almost to the threshold of the door and he refused to give up, so he moved past Gibbs and kept going. Something in his mind whispered this was crazy, but he pushed it aside. His ribs ached unbearably and he was breathing erratically, but it didn't matter. Not even Gibbs was telling him what to do this time.

Gibbs increased the pressure on his shoulders and gently shoved him backwards, moving in front of Tony so he had to stop. "Tony…."

"No!" DiNozzo yelled, lunging forward. He banged his fists against Gibbs' chest, his attack weakened by his lack of strength. Gibbs' blue eyes widened with shock, but Tony continued to hit him, weeks of frustration unleashing itself in his fit of rage.

"Stop telling me what to do! I need to….." he pulled in a hitching breath and choked back a sob, his wrists trapped in Gibbs' hands.

The door opened again, and he saw Gibbs wave whoever was standing there back out in the hall.

"What do you need, Tony?" Gibbs asked, his eyes calm and understanding. "It's alright, you can tell me."

What did he need? He didn't want to say it. Gibbs had said he loved him, and he wanted that so very, very much. Yet even Gibbs' love wasn't enough, it couldn't fill up the emptiness that had been left inside him.

With a sigh, Tony closed his eyes. When he opened them, he knew he was close to tears again and he hated himself for the display of weakness. "I need to be by myself, Gibbs. I need….. to go home to my apartment and…..and make my own breakfast, and go…..to the bathroom alone. I need to be me again." He sounded like he was pleading for something, his tone harsh and broken, and he didn't think it made any sense.

Gibbs touched his cheek and smiled wanly before pulling him close and hugging him firmly. "I get it, Tony," he said with quiet assurance. Tony melted into the embrace, unsure why Gibbs was so willing to put up with him. He clung to the older man, a part of him yearning for independence yet another part never wanting to let go. They stayed that way until Tony calmed down and weariness overtook him. "Come on, it's back to bed for you." He pulled Tony out of floor and guided him across the room, settling him into bed and tucking covers around him. With a strange look on his face, Gibbs picked up his hand and kissed his palm, holding his hand for a few minutes before placing it back on the bed.

Tony felt confused, contrite, and penitent. He was pushing Gibbs away when he needed him most. How could he survive without Gibbs there to protect him? "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," he apologized meekly. He paused before asking the question that bothered him most. "Do you think I'm ruined?"

Gibbs brushed his knuckles over Tony's cheek. "No, never. You just need more time." He smiled. "I'm going to have the nurse come in and make sure you didn't do any permanent damage." Gibbs walked to the door of the room, glancing back at Tony worriedly. "I'll be waiting for you, Tony, when you're ready."

The door clicked shut and Tony lay there, exhausted and embarrassed. After the IV was put back in and he had been escorted to the bathroom and back, he noticed that Gibbs hadn't returned to his chair at the side of the bed.

The older man had given Tony what he asked for, and as the sun set low in the sky, Tony fell asleep alone.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's Notes: **_So sorry about the delay in posting. I've had so much to do that I've had very little free time; every spare minute I've spent tweaking this chapter to try and give us some adequate and believable resolution. I hope it comes close! (It's so long I'm almost embarrassed).

I've read all your reviews and have added little bits and pieces based on comments. I still hope to reply to everyone now that I'm done (I took the liberty of deciding that you'd rather have me finishing the chapter than typing replies – lol). I love your support and insights and can't wait to hear from you now that it's all over! I will definitely miss seeing your names in my mailbox. Because of all of you, sharing this story has been a wonderful experience.

Enjoy the happy ending!

**Chapter 21**

The hospital room was dark except for the flickering light of the television high on the wall. The sound was turned down, but that didn't matter – Tony had seen this movie so many times he knew the dialogue by heart. It was on his list of classics, and he never failed to watch it when he found it on. So many Sunday afternoons had been spent in the company of these characters that it was almost like running into old friends.

Tonight he found the movie about unfulfilled love more poignant and bittersweet than ever. A week had passed since he had his mini-breakdown and Gibbs walked into the hall; Tony hadn't seen him since. There hadn't even been a phone call from his boss. He only had himself to blame; Gibbs had stepped up to the plate and declared his love and Tony had tossed the sentiment back in his face like a spoiled brat. He still couldn't explain his actions, but deep inside he didn't think it could have turned out any other way. His time in captivity continued to torment him, and it wasn't fair to subject Gibbs to his mood swings and confusion.

Abby had been to see him every day, along with Ziva, McGee, and even the occasional visit by Fornell and Saks. Vance had stopped in once, and his wife had sent him a stack of magazines to pass the time. Ducky and Palmer rotated visits, ensuring the ME and his assistant were well informed of his medical status. So he didn't lack for company. His friends had filled him in on Rick's death at the auction house, and Nakamura had died within minutes of the bullet piercing his heart. He was glad they were dead, and only wished there had been some way to make them suffer even a little of what he had been forced to endure.

He vaguely remembered shooting Nakamura; the man had been unarmed, but Tony had pulled the trigger anyway and he didn't regret it. He had been expecting to be arrested until Vance explained that the two eyewitnesses to the event reported his actions as self defense. Gibbs and Fornell had covered up for him, and he wasn't sure what he thought about that; for some reason it was just one more way he had to be taken care of and it made him uneasy. Any punishment he might have faced was worth knowing the sadistic bastard couldn't hurt anyone ever again.

Instead of whining he realized he should be grateful; the animals who had tormented him were gone, except in the nightmares that still haunted him every time he closed his eyes. The night nurses had made a silent promise not to tell anyone about the times he woke up screaming and fighting demons that weren't there. During the day he did his best to plaster on a smile and pretend it was all behind him. He was used to faking happiness; the only thing he couldn't outright ignore was Gibbs' absence.

Tony wasn't mad at Gibbs for the disappearing act; somehow it seemed like the right decision. If the lead agent had been around he would have felt compelled to hover and make decisions, and for the moment Tony wanted, no needed, to be in control. It was to Gibbs' credit that he understood; Tony just hoped he also understood it wasn't meant to be forever. The compound had been nothing short of a circle of hell, but the few times they had been alone – in the woods and when they made love – were all that had held him together. He wouldn't simply give that up, even if right now wasn't the best time to move forward with a relationship.

Tony let his eyes drift from the television screen to the door; a small part of him kept hoping Gibbs would come back. He was pathetic. It wasn't like he had called Gibbs, either. They were both masters at avoidance and apparently neither intended to be the first one to make a move. Tony had asked for his freedom, and Gibbs had granted his request with no questions asked. Whether that made his boss a bastard or merely human, Tony wasn't quite sure.

When the door abruptly opened it caught him off guard, and for a brief second his heart sped up and in the dim light he thought it was Gibbs' silhouette in the opening. The excitement dissipated as a man he didn't recognize stepped inside. The gentleman was tall and imposing, with a neatly cropped beard, short grey hair, and a white doctor's jacket.

Tony sighed; he was being released in the morning and he wasn't in the mood to deal with a new physician. Before he could open his mouth to politely but firmly tell the man to get out, the doctor turned to watch the movie playing on the screen. His face lit up at the easily recognizable actors.

"Casablanca! This is one of my favorite scenes!" He sat down in the empty plastic chair and started searching around on the bedside table. "Where's the remote? Don't you want to turn up the sound?"

Using the controls on the bed, Tony increased the volume until the familiar strains of "As Time Goes By" filled the room.

The doctor leaned back in the unforgiving plastic chair and crossed his legs, settling in as much as possible to enjoy the film. When the famous scene was over and a commercial started he glanced at Tony with misty eyes. "It gets to me every time."

Tony lifted an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

Chuckling, the doctor stood and offered his hand for Tony to shake. "Sorry, I'm a friend of Abby's; she asked me to stop by before you leave our lovely establishment tomorrow."

Tony nodded and tilted his head, making a quick assessment and determination. "You're a psychiatrist."

The man managed to look charmingly offended. "You say that like it's an insult."

DiNozzo simply shrugged, his lack of admiration for members of the profession abundantly clear.

The doctor leaned toward him, hands clasped in his lap. "Ms. Sciuto is concerned for you, as any good friend would be. She didn't give me a lot of details about your situation, just enough to understand why my particular services might be appropriate. Please don't be angry with her; she's a lovely young woman."

"I'm not upset, I just don't want to talk to anyone," Tony explained, intending to put a stop to this as quickly as possible.

The doctor pursed his lips. "She also mentioned that counseling is mandatory prior to your return to work." Humphrey Bogart started speaking again, drawing his attention to the television screen. "Oh, it's back on." He shifted into a relaxed position with his hands behind his head, once again engrossed in the black and white film.

Tony observed the doctor, unable to figure the guy out. When the psychiatrist didn't say anything else, Tony joined him in watching the movie. The surprise visitor knew almost as much about movies as he did and he couldn't help but be impressed. They chatted during commercials about the plot, the actors, the Academy Awards, and the less than romantic ending.

In many ways, the movie mirrored his life. When Rick put Lisa on the plane and walked away, Tony felt his own heart plummet. There was nothing else to be done, but the fact their love could never last was devastatingly unfair. Tony wanted to rewrite the ending of the movie just like he wanted to rewrite his own life.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" the doctor asked sharply.

"What? Oh, sorry. I guess I was lost in thought for a minute," Tony deflected, unsure of what he'd missed. He smiled apologetically and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Even though all he'd done for weeks was lie around in bed, it only took a few hours before he felt completely worn out.

Looking at his watch, the doctor stood. "I should let you rest. You make sure to tell Abby I offered and you refused my help. I don't want to be on that young woman's bad side."

The doctor turned to go. "You haven't told me your name," Tony pointed out before he left the room. DiNozzo had enjoyed the physician's short visit despite his hated occupation, and Tony wanted to make sure he used the right name when reporting the conversation to Abby.

"Dr. Michael Sawyer," the man stated, facing Tony again. "I'm here for the next six months doing some research and completing a fellowship for the hospital." He pointed at the television screen. "Thank you for letting me stay awhile; it isn't often I meet someone with as much interest in cinema as I have."

Tony couldn't believe what he'd heard. Leave it to Abby to become bosom buddies with a renowned expert in everything that he was currently dealing with – and who had a healthy obsession with movies.

"Wait," Tony said, leaning up in the bed with a wince. Sawyer turned and smiled like a kindly doctor should. Tony felt uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed; he thoroughly despised the prospect of asking for help.

Unfortunately, he had no choice. The man was right; he had to complete required counseling if he ever wanted to work as an NCIS agent again. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to get that unpleasant condition out of the way and with someone he might be able to tolerate being around. If nothing else, at least the guy was famous.

Sawyer waited for him to explain himself. Tony cleared his throat and plunged ahead. "I was thinking….I might take you up on your offer. If you're still interested." He held the doctor's gaze uncertainly.

With a concerned frown the doctor approached him. "What made you change your mind?"

Tony chewed his lip for a minute before answering. "I don't know how much Abby told you about…..what happened to me." He paused, searching for condemnation in the doctor's face.

"She didn't tell me very much, just enough to let me know my particular expertise might be useful to you." The man's response revealed nothing but professional concern. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his smock and continued to patiently wait Tony out. They must teach that in shrink school, DiNozzo decided.

Forcing his eyes to stay focused and not dart around or look away, he finally went on. "I was kidnapped," he said firmly, not letting his voice waver. "And forced to…." He faltered on the rest of the story, huffing in frustration before he made himself go on. "And forced into training as a submissive slave. They sold me to a psychopath before my team rescued me."

Sawyers' eyes narrowed, and he studied Tony for a few minutes before walking over next to the bed.

"Are you a submissive?" he asked.

This time Tony's eyes did wander. His voice was soft when he answered. "I don't know. Probably. I'm not sure if it matters now." He turned to Sawyer with a plaintive smile. "I'm pretty messed up."

The doctor patted his hand. "We all are, Tony, on some level. You've just had a rough time of things. I'd be glad to help you sort it all out."

Shifting anxiously, Tony nodded; grateful and worried at the same time. "When do you want to start?"

"How about Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

Tony's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Two days a week? You must really think I've got a screw loose!"

"Maybe we'll watch a movie or two," the doctor laughed. "I'm looking forward to it. Get some sleep and I'll stop in tomorrow before you leave. We'll firm up the arrangements then." The doctor scratched his head as if thinking. "Are you staying with someone? It might not be a bad idea for a while. Being alone might be tempting, but you need a support system."

Usually Tony would be at Gibbs' house, but this time no invitation had been issued. "I'm staying with Abby. She wouldn't even consider letting me go back to my apartment yet."

"Like I said, she's a great girl," the doctor reiterated, gazing at Tony appraisingly. "Are you having trouble sleeping? Insomnia isn't uncommon after an experience like yours."

_This guy is good,_ Tony filed the information away for future reference. "I'm fine," he lied.

The doctor patted his leg congenially. "That might work on some people, but not on me. I'll speak to the nurses about it on my way out." Tony waited until the psychiatrist left and then sank beneath the covers. He turned off the television and let the room drop into darkness except for the beeping lights of monitors. He really was exhausted, but it seemed like sleep never came easy.

Thoughts of Rick, Nakamura, Gibbs, and even Zeke swirled around in his mind in an endless loop. He couldn't stop wondering if it was possible for him to reconcile his feelings for Gibbs as a Dom with the abuse inflicted on him by the others. After everything he had gone through, why couldn't he let himself be happy? It wasn't until a nurse came in and refused to leave before he took a pill that he finally drifted off, hoping that tonight there would be no dreams.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs grabbed the phone on the second ring, trained to find it even in the dark. "Yeah."

"Hey Boss."

The soft voice had him sitting up and turning on the light. "What's wrong, Abs? Is Tony alright?" It was DiNozzo's first night out of the hospital, and Gibbs had spent most of the evening drinking in the basement, trying to convince himself letting Tony go with Abby was the right thing to do.

He cradled the phone against his chin and snagged a pair of jeans off the floor.

Abby sniffled. "Tony just had a nightmare, but it's ok now. He went back to sleep. I….I needed to talk to someone."

"I'm coming over," Gibbs said, pulling on his pants. He'd done his best to give Tony space, but he wasn't staying away if Tony couldn't get through this on his own.

"No! No…." She took a deep breath. "He told me some of what happened, and it kind of freaked me out."

Gibbs sat back down, trying to decide what to do. Leaving Tony alone was killing him, and this was the perfect excuse to check up on his senior field agent. But was that in Tony's best interests? He wanted to be Tony's Dom, and that meant sometimes he had to sacrifice his own desires for the benefit of his sub. "Does he need me there? I need your help on this Abby, so be honest. "

He could almost hear Abby thinking over the phone. "He's not getting a lot of sleep, but the hospital prescribed some medication that I made him take. It seemed to help him settle down. I hate to watch him going through such a hard time now that he's home and safe. It isn't fair."

"I know, Abs. But he has us to take care of him until he's back on his feet. Are you sure I shouldn't come over?"

"No, it's fine," she paused. "You know he loves you, right? He just can't have you saving him this time."

Gibbs sighed. "I know, Abby. Call me if anything else happens."

"You got it, Boss," she said and hung up the phone.

Running fingers through his hair, Gibbs stood and went to the kitchen to make coffee. There was no reason to try and go back to bed, since all he would do the remainder of the night was think about Tony.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Abby's frown caused deep lines to form around her mouth and eyes. Her ponytails were askew and she was wearing a knee-length black and white checkered nightgown. The fuzzy slippers made her appear somewhat less imposing than her tone would indicate. "Take the pills, Tony," she ordered, arms folded across her chest. "Or I'm calling Dr. Sawyer right now!"

Tony wrapped his arms around his legs and drew them up on the bed. It was the third night in a row he had woken Abby with his yelling and they were both exhausted. He should probably just give in and take the medication, but the need for it made him feel weak and stupid. There was no reason a few barely comprehensible dreams should get him worked into such a state and he wouldn't give in to the ramblings of his subconscious.

"I don't want to, Abby. I'll be fine; just go back to bed."

She threw her hands in the air in exasperation, pigtails twirling around her head as she paced back and forth. "You are not fine! Have you checked a mirror lately? You look worse now than when you came home from the hospital. At least there they could make you take care of yourself. You aren't eating, you aren't sleeping, you aren't taking your medicine." She stopped walking and faced him. "Forget Sawyer, I'm calling Gibbs."

Tony jumped from the bed and grabbed her arm before she could head out the door. "No, Abs, don't!"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Why not, Tony? I don't understand why you can't let him help you."

Tony made a strangled sound and bit his lip. How could he explain to her what he couldn't explain to himself? "I don't know, Abby. I just….I feel like if I give up now I might never stand on my own again. Somehow it makes me feel like they turned me into a slave after all."

He was only wearing Ohio State boxers, and he rubbed his arms against the chilly air. Abby's eyes grew moist and she pulled him into a hug, letting his head rest on her shoulder.

"I get it," she sympathized. "But you've got to accept a little bit of help, ok? Just take the pills for a few weeks and then see if the nightmares go away. I don't want Gibbs to blame me for letting you get sick again."

He couldn't fight with her when she was being so sweet to him. He still didn't like it, but he gave in because he loved her. "Alright, Abs. For you."  
>She smiled and towed him back to the bed before she retrieved a glass of water and two small tablets. He washed them down quickly, letting her tuck him in when he was finished. He didn't protest when she snuggled under the covers beside him, willing to help battle the memories that refused to let him go.<p>

No matter what had happened in the past or what might happen in the future, he knew he was lucky to have such loyal friends to count on.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs halted in front of the door to Abby's apartment, six pack of beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He wasn't sure if coming here was the right choice, but it was better than facing Tony for the first time in weeks when he entered the bullpen in the morning.

How DiNozzo had been cleared for light duty so quickly was beyond his comprehension. He'd expected the senior field agent to be out of commission for six months, not six weeks. Never let it be said that Tony wasn't full of surprises.

During Abby's daily reports she had assured him that Tony was improving rapidly, and continued to attend counseling sessions regularly. That in and of itself was amazing. She had gently suggested that Gibbs drop by to see Tony, but he hadn't managed to get up the nerve. For one of the few times in his life he let his fear get the better of him.

Tony hadn't called, which was another surprise. He wasn't sure why, but he'd expected DiNozzo to contact him. As days went by without any attempt to reconnect, he'd convinced himself that Tony couldn't handle what had happened between them now that he was back in the real world. He'd had enough disappointing relationships to know that things didn't always work out the way you wanted.

Now, he had to find a way to see Tony as a professional colleague and a friend and nothing else. It was the only chance they had to stay on the same team. They were family, and he refused to allow this fucked up situation to take that away from any of them.

"Hey, Boss." He had been so engrossed in his own thoughts he hadn't heard anyone walk up behind him. McGee stood a few feet away, nervously smiling.

Gibbs took the interruption as his cue to pound on the door; a few minutes later he was ushered inside by a grinning Abby who showed him where to place his convenience store offerings. He opened a beer before putting the rest in the refrigerator.

Coming out of the kitchen he nearly collided with DiNozzo who was making his way down the hall.

"Hey, Abs, who's here? I heard the door….oh." Tony took a step back and licked his lips nervously.

"It's Gibbs and McGee. I sent the Bossman to the kitchen!" she called out.

"Yeah, I found him," Tony replied.

DiNozzo was dressed in a red Ohio State t-shirt and grey running pants. Gibbs noticed they were hanging loosely, but he had picked up a pound or two and wasn't as stick thin as he had been the last time they'd seen each other. His hair had been trimmed, and there was color back in his skin. The scabs on his arms were mostly healed, and even the dark circles under his eyes weren't that pronounced, so maybe he was getting some decent rest.

Overall, Tony looked good. Too good. This was going to be even harder than he'd imagined.

DiNozzo smiled. "Long time no see," he said. "I didn't know if you'd come."

Gibbs shrugged. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

Tony's smile faded and he blinked. "I'm glad you did," he said softly.

Gibbs fought the urge to wrap his arms around Tony's slight shoulders and tug him into a fierce embrace. He had hoped the time apart would dampen the surge of emotion he felt when he saw those deep green eyes seeking out something from him that he longed to give. But he couldn't venture where he hadn't been asked to go; DiNozzo had made it clear he needed space to recover on his own. He wouldn't force himself on Tony when he was still vulnerable. Gibbs shoved his toppy instincts aside in order to let Tony stand on his own.

They stared at each other, neither certain what to do next.

DiNozzo started to say something when Abby burst into the room, interrupting him. "Hey – I wondered where you two had gone! Come on, everyone's here!" She grabbed them each by a wrist and pulled them into the living room where the rest of the team had gathered. They were chattering and laughing, drinking wine, beer, and eating popcorn. Ziva was punching buttons on the remote to start a movie.

Tony took a seat in an overstuffed armchair; Abby placed a paper crown on his head and he laughed good-naturedly. Gibbs found himself sitting across the room on the arm of the sofa, sipping his beer while the team discussed actors, actresses, plots, and dialogue. The evening passed in a buzz of casual conversation and relaxed friendship; occasionally Tony caught his eye and gave him a shy smile. There was so much between them that had been left unsaid. It would be easy to let it get buried under the routine of work and the roles they were so used to filling. They could go on with their lives and never again revisit what had been shared between them.

It would be up to Tony. He would have to come to terms with his submissiveness and reconcile that aspect of his character with all that had happened to him. If Tony remained broken and unsure, a relationship would never work and they might both end up hurt; it could even destroy their friendship. The possibility of not having Tony in his life at all was unimaginable.

McGee's phone beeped and he checked the screen, blushing as he glanced around at the others.

Ziva and Abby both giggled and Tony sat forward, his hand quickly darting out as he snatched the phone.

"Hey! Give that back!" Tim protested, trying to reclaim the device while Tony twisted out of reach, scanning the message and laughing.

"Ooh, Timmy, I think Fornell wants to know when you're leaving…." The phone beeped again, and Tony rolled around on the chair. "He's tired of waiting on you, lover boy."

McGee stood up and grabbed the phone out of DiNozzo's hand. "That is none of your business, Tony! I can't believe you read my messages!"

Tony straightened up and wiped at his watering eyes. "Don't be such a McPrude. I'm actually happy for you. I hope this is the start of something that makes you both very happy." His tone was serious, and he steadfastly avoided looking at Gibbs.

"Well," Tim started, uncertain about whether Tony was being honest. "Thanks." He glanced around with a hesitant grin. "I guess I'm going to go."

The others stood as well. "It is getting rather late," Ducky pointed out. "And we all have an early day tomorrow. You definitely need a good night's sleep," he wagged a finger at Tony. "I'm still not convinced you are quite ready for a return, but I suppose if you only work half a day it won't be more than you can handle."

"I'll see he gets tucked in at a decent hour," Abby promised, taking Ducky's arm as she followed him to the door.

Everyone else gathered their things and followed suit. Gibbs lingered behind, feeling the warmth of Tony's body as the younger man walked next to him.

The lead agent turned. "You sure you're up for coming back?"

"Gotta start sometime. And believe it or not, I'm beginning to go stir crazy here."

"I heard that!" Abby chastised. Tony shook his head ruefully. "See what I mean?"

"Just don't feel like you have to push yourself. Your job is there when you're ready; I've made sure Vance understands that."

"I know you have," Tony stated simply, gratitude in his eyes.

Gibbs cleared his throat, knowing that if he prolonged the moment he would get in deeper than was good for Tony. With a nod, he picked up his jacket and headed for the door. It didn't feel right leaving Tony here, but he had no choice.

"Don't stay up all night gossiping like a bunch of school girls," Gibbs warned. "Not a minute late or there'll be hell to pay!" He strode down the hallway without looking back, certain that Tony watched him until he was gone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance threw his toothpick in the trash. "Calm down, DiNozzo, they'll be back here any minute."

Tony ran his hand through his hair and continued pacing the bullpen. "You said that ten minutes ago. Are you sure the hospital didn't want to keep him? Maybe he just walked out; you know how he is."

"Ducky said he's fine; it's just a graze."

"I should have been there," Tony argued. "If I'd been with them I could have done something to stop it. What if he'd been killed?"

The Director shook his head. "It's the job; we take that chance every time we go to a crime scene. You aren't cleared for field duty yet; hell, you should've gone home hours ago. Now sit down before I cuff you to a chair!"

Tony stopped pacing and glared at Vance, who realized too late what he'd said. Before Vance could try to recover his fumbled words, the elevator doors opened and the MCRT team filed out looking rumpled and worn. Gibbs was the last to emerge, the large purple scrape above his temple standing out against his silver hair and pale skin.

DiNozzo's heart skipped a beat; if the shot had gone a few inches in the other direction Gibbs would be laying on a steel slab in autopsy and all their chances would be over. The realization sent a cold chill through him.

"Are you ok?" Tony asked, standing a few feet away from his boss, hands clenched at his sides.

"It'd take more than a little scratch like this to hurt me. I'm fine, Tony."

He'd been obsessively worried for hours and all the emotions bubbled up inside. Tony wanted to touch the injury, inspect it, make sure it was nothing serious. But he couldn't, he couldn't touch Gibbs like that. He flexed his fingers again and fought back the urge to wrap his arms around Gibbs' legs and beg to go home with him.

Everyone was staring. This was ridiculous. Tony had to get out of here before he completely embarrassed himself. He grabbed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. "I have to go, I'll see you guys Monday."

He raced for the elevator without looking back. When he got to the car he'd call Dr. Sawyer; maybe the psychiatrist could figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

DiNozzo sighed as he hit the button sending his report to the printer; he had already emailed Gibbs a copy, but his crusty boss continued to insist on a hard copy as well. It was his first case on duty as a full-fledged field agent, and it had been a tough one. They'd worked the last three days with almost no rest, but the effort had paid off when they caught the rat who was selling classified naval documents to the highest bidder. Gibbs had been pleased, which made Tony happy.

He pushed his shoulders back and rolled his neck to relieve the tension that had built up while he sat hunched over his computer. Glancing at his watch, he realized that if he left immediately, he might just make it to his appointment on time.

Gibbs peered at him over top of his glasses when he placed the report on his desk. Silently the older man scanned the document, before looking up again. "Going somewhere?" he asked. Gibbs didn't mince words, ever.

Tony squashed down the flutter in his stomach that never failed to appear when Gibbs leveled that blue eyed gaze at him. He couldn't count the times he had battled the urge to fall to his knees in the middle of the bullpen and beg the Dom to have his way. Tonight was no different, but as usual Tony ignored the yearning and prayed none of his body parts gave away his secret. Gibbs getting shot had been a wake-up call to his submissive desire for his boss. Fortunately, no one had mentioned his near breakdown a few weeks ago, and had left him alone to sort out his complicated feelings.

Casually he answered. "I'm supposed to meet someone in about half an hour. Thought I'd take off." McGee and Ziva had left earlier, so he doubted it would be a problem.

"Go on then."

He waited to see if there would be more, but when Gibbs went back to his computer and didn't say anything else, he returned to his desk, grabbed his bag and left.

The past few months had found them avoiding recent events and going through the motions as if nothing had happened. Every now and then they would find themselves alone in the elevator or standing too close, and Tony would forget how to breathe. Gibbs never hinted at what he might be feeling; he never lost control, never broke a sweat or got flustered. For all Tony knew he had decided that a messed up, shattered soul like his wasn't worth the trouble after all.

If that was true, Tony would have to learn to live with it, even if it did break his heart.

The restaurant was busy, and it took a few minutes to find his companion. Dr. Sawyer smiled in greeting when he rushed to the table.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, taking a seat and unfolding his napkin. "It's been a crazy week."

"No need to apologize, I just got here myself. However, I have taken the liberty of ordering you a shrimp cocktail and a bottle of wine."

Tony grinned; if he was going to have to see a shrink, this was definitely the way to do it. Their sessions usually consisted of dinner and a movie, with conversations inserted in between. It wasn't traditional by any means, but it worked for him. He was starting to come to terms with his true self, and with the doctor's patient guidance had begun to put things in perspective. They had discussed Zeke's impact on his psychological development, the abandonment issues created by his father, the guilt he had over Jenny, and the torture he'd endured at the camp. They had explored various aspects of dominance and submission, until he'd finally accepted that being a sub didn't give anyone a license to hurt him and with the right partner it was nothing to be ashamed of. Every day he felt better and more at ease in his own skin; it had been a long time since he'd even come close to any kind of inner peace.

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight?" the doctor inquired, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a drink.

"There's a Hitchcock festival showing downtown," Tony suggested without a lot of enthusiasm. He played with a piece of shrimp, dunking it repeatedly in cocktail sauce.

The doctor laced his fingers together. "You want to talk about it?" he asked.

Tony's eyes shot up. "I thought a movie buff like you would know all about Hitchcock, but if you insist I guess I can give a history of the master of suspense. His career started in…."

"Tony."

DiNozzo dropped the shrimp and let his shoulders slump. "I think he's given up on me."

"What makes you think that?"

Tony tore chunks off a piece of bread. "He acts just like he did before; everything's business as usual, but no head slaps of course."

"How does that make you feel?"

Tony snorted. "Don't go all cliché on me, Doc. It makes me feel like shit. I should have talked to him sooner, but I….." he faltered. "I just couldn't."

"Can you talk to him now?"

DiNozzo slowly chewed a bite of bread. He had accepted his submissiveness, and understood that it didn't make him weak or damaged as long as he gave it of his own free will. What had been done to him while he was kidnapped had in no way been a reflection of what a real Dominant/submissive relationship would be like. The doctor had convinced him he deserved to enjoy the submissive aspect of his personality without fear or being hurt or humiliated. He thought he might be ready to do that now.

But only with Gibbs. There was no one else.

"I think it's time," Tony finally replied.

The doctor wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin on his plate. "If I leave now I think I can make the start of that festival." He motioned for the waiter to bring the check. "And you can get across town to have that conversation."

"Tonight?" Tony's mouth shook his head. "I'm not just going to ditch you like that."

Sawyer signed the bill and stood. "Stop procrastinating. Call me tomorrow and tell me how it goes." He patted Tony on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you Tony. You've survived more than most people could even imagine. Now go be happy."

"But what if he doesn't want me anymore?" DiNozzo blurted the words out before he had time to think about them.

"Then you'll move on. Either way, you have to know."

Tony sat at the table trying to work up his nerve. Draining the wine glass, he decided it was time to meet his fate head on.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs sat the planer down and straightened up on the stool. He hadn't been expecting anyone, but the sound of the front door shutting and footsteps heading into the kitchen were unmistakable.

The leather shoe clad feet descended the steps until Tony appeared in view and took a seat near the bottom of the staircase. He placed a six pack of beer next to him and popped the lid off a bottle. Gibbs noticed he'd changed into jeans and a blue button up shirt; he didn't talk, leaning against the wall and letting the bottle dangle from his fingers.

Gibbs picked up his coffee cup and sat down on the step next to him. "I thought you had a date."

Tony's lips parted and then he laughed. "I said an appointment; that's not exactly a date."

"Oh." The silver-haired man took a drink of coffee to hide his surprise. He had been so convinced Tony was hitting the singles scene again that no other possibilities had occurred to him.

Tony wiped condensation off the beer bottle with his thumb. "I was meeting with my psychiatrist."

Abby had said Tony was still going to counseling, and Gibbs had been shocked that his senior field agent would willingly continue the sessions considering DiNozzo's distaste for the mental health profession. That fact alone revealed how much emotional damage Tony's abduction had left behind. Gibbs doubted he would ever forgive himself for not getting his agent out of there sooner and he was determined to do everything possible to help Tony heal even if it did hurt like hell. Every day since he had walked out of the hospital he questioned whether separating himself from Tony was the best course of action, but he had to admit that seeing the younger man regain his independence made him damn proud.

"Going to a shrink isn't something I broadcast," Tony continued, peeling the label into tiny curls. He took another drink and sat the bottle down. "I probably shouldn't have come by without calling first."

Tony hadn't been to Gibbs' place since they returned and the lead agent had wondered if DiNozzo would ever show up again. Sensing Tony's nervousness and wanting to reassure him, Gibbs reached out and cupped his jaw. "You're always welcome here."

Tony closed his eyes and nuzzled into the calloused palm. "Thanks." His voice was husky and raw; the unexpected sensuality of the movement went straight to Gibbs' dick. This was not how he predicted his night would go and he needed to get his head around what was happening before he made a mistake. "Why are you here, Tony?"

The corners of the green eyes creased cautiously. "I thought we should talk about….." He took a deep breath. "I think I have a few things figured out and we might want to discuss them, if you're interested…." He shook his head and moved to stand. "This was a bad idea, I'm just going to leave and pretend like I never came over here."

Gibbs placed a hand on his wrist and pulled him back down. Now that his boy had made the first move, he wasn't getting away that easy.

"What have you figured out?"

Tony swallowed. "Do you really want to know?"

"Of course I do." He tried to be gentle and not scare Tony with the intensity of his desire to hear the words. He'd waited so long for Tony to finally get to this point, he didn't know if he could hold out any longer. "Tell me."

"It's just you haven't said anything and I wasn't sure if you still cared. I thought maybe you'd changed your mind about me."

Gibbs stroked the inside of Tony's wrist. "I wanted to give you time to come to your own conclusions about what's next. Without any pressure."

Tony nodded. "You knew what I needed even when I didn't. I'm a submissive, Gibbs, not that it's a surprise to anyone, except maybe me…." His head dropped and his eyes flickered. "I had to accept it though, before I could be with anyone. Before I could be with you."

The older man exhaled slowly. "Is that what you want? To be with me?" He tightened his grip on Tony's wrist and watched carefully as the green eyes dilated and Tony sucked in a breath. The reaction set Gibbs' heart pounding; maybe there was hope after all. "Do you know what that means?"

For a few seconds Tony didn't seem able to respond, but he eventually gave his head a shake to clear it. "I don't know if I can be everything you want….not yet at least," he said breathily. "There's a lot I'm not sure I can handle, or if I'll ever be able to do."

"Like what?" Gibbs asked. He could feel Tony's pulse throbbing against his fingers.

Tony's eyes dropped away again, and his reply was barely a whisper. "Being tied up, whipped, anything like that….I don't think I'm ready to be in those kinds of positions. I realize that's a big part of the dynamic, and I'm sorry….I just can't…."

Gibbs let go of his wrist and leaned forward, taking Tony's face in his hands. "Do you think I can't be your Dom unless I do those things to you?"

Tony's eyes were sad and desperate. "I….I don't know…."

Gibbs traced his lips with one finger before pressing their foreheads together. "We'll figure it out, Tony, together. If you never feel comfortable with those parts of the lifestyle, it won't matter to me. I'll always love you, no matter what."

"You still love me?" There was so much surprise and wonder in his voice it made Gibbs' heart ache.

Gibbs tilted Tony's chin up so he could stare into those beautiful eyes. "Forever."

When he pressed his lips against Tony's it was like they were fused into one. He cupped the back of Tony's head with his hand and pulled him close. When his tongue snaked into Tony's mouth, his cock hardened instantly. He hadn't dared to believe that he would have this man in his arms again, to smell him, to taste him, to touch him. It was too good to be true.

When the need for oxygen became too much, they parted. Tony stared at him with a smile as sweet as heaven. "You mean it, don't you? You can really live with all my issues?"

Gibbs laughed. "I'm not saying we won't have to work on them, but I think it'll be alright." He took Tony's hand. Too much time had passed and he refused to wait one more minute. There would be opportunities for long conversations later; right now he needed something more. "Come on."

Tony followed without hesitation. "Where are we going?" At the top of the stairs, Gibbs kissed him again, his arousal growing when Tony melted against him.

"Trust me," Gibbs growled. "I'm the Dom, remember?"

"Right," Tony replied, his eyes shrouded. "I can do that."

"See, we're making progress already."

They stumbled into the bedroom and Gibbs stopped him next to the bed. With sure fingers, he slowly undid the buttons on Tony's shirt.

"What.."

Gibbs placed a finger on Tony's mouth. "Shhh. Don't talk."

He continued to slowly undress his sub, kissing Tony's taut stomach when the fabric parted to reveal the tawny chest and abdomen. Slowly he slid the shirt off Tony's shoulders and over his arms before dropping it on the floor by the bed.

Tony moaned when Gibbs kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulder, then made his way to suckle on each unadorned nipple until they both stood hard and erect. He enjoyed the fact both rings were gone and the holes had closed over. Since he hadn't put them in, it was good Tony had removed them.

Gibbs faced him again and smiled. "You belong to me now and I plan on enjoying every inch of you. Think you can deal with that?"

Speechless, Tony nodded in agreement.

"Good." In one smooth motion Gibbs popped the button on Tony's jeans and slid the zipper down, letting his hand barely brush his lover's engorged cock. He grinned to discover the sticky wet precum that leaked from the throbbing organ and was glad Tony had decided to continue his habit of not wearing underwear.

He tugged the soft fabric over Tony's hips and down his legs, lifting each foot to remove the shoes, socks, and pants from his body. When he finished Tony stood before him gloriously naked, everything about him perfect.

It was strange; when they had been trapped at the compound Tony had been nude the entire time. For some reason, it wasn't nearly as erotic as seeing him standing here now, in Gibbs' very own bedroom, waiting to be told what to do next.

Gibbs hoped he could hold off his orgasm long enough to make this good for Tony.

"Lie down," he ordered. "And grab the headboard."

Tony did as told, crawling into position on the bed. Gibbs pushed Tony's legs apart and climbed between them.

"You are so gorgeous, I could have you like this every single day and love each second of it." He let his hands slowly glide up the inside of Tony's legs, lingering on his inner thighs when Tony trembled at the touch.

Every muscle in Tony's body tightened when Gibbs kissed the crease between his leg and thigh, kneading the flesh on his stomach with his free hand.

"Gibbs," Tony groaned.

The Dom raised up and placed his hands on Tony's arms, pressing his entire body against Tony's until their hard cocks were touching. Tony arched off the bed, his skin electrified by the contact.

"No talking, boy." He kissed his sub again, forcing their mouths together as he ground his dick against Tony's.

"And don't even think about cumming yet," he warned. "You'll only do that when I say so."

Tony whimpered in protest but didn't speak. Gibbs trailed down his body once more, stopping to lick up and down DiNozzo's erect shaft. Tony bucked against him, nearly flying off the mattress when Gibbs wrapped his lips around first one ball and then the other.

"Oh, oh, oh," Tony muttered unintelligibly. Gibbs decided the sound didn't count as actual words. He reached over and opened the nightstand, taking out a bottle of lube. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and quickly removed his pants and boxers, tossing the items on the floor. Flipping open the tube, he slicked his own cock, licking his lips when he found Tony watching him with open admiration.

"Do you want some of this?" Gibbs asked, holding his dick so Tony could see the full length and width of it as he slowly stroked himself. "Tell me," he prompted.

"I want you," Tony said in a deep breath. "I want all of you."

"That's what I plan on giving you. Tonight and every night; you won't be sleeping anywhere but by my side from now on. You got that?"

"I got that," Tony whispered.

Gibbs settled between Tony's legs, lifting them up and over his hips. Squeezing out more lube, he ran his finger over his boy's quivering hole. Tony gasped and pushed down, sucking Gibbs' finger into his tight heat. When the finger was fully inserted Gibbs added another, and then a third, scissoring them to stretch the opening wide enough to accept him.

Tony gripped the headboard firmly, tossing his head back when Gibbs hit his prostate. A feral scream tore from his throat.

Gibbs removed his fingers and lined up his cock, thrusting in quickly and fully, his own groan low and dangerous. He leaned forward and kissed Tony again, reveling in the feel of sweat against his chest.

Pressed into Tony's skin he began thrusting, burying his dick deep in the hot, sweet ass that belonged to him now and forever.

"Mine," he grunted with each thrust.

"Yours," Tony mumbled. "Always yours." Tony released the headboard and clutched at the sheets when Gibbs started pummeling his prostate with every stroke.

The veins in Tony's neck bulged as he strained to hold back his orgasm. Gibbs' cock was like a living steel rod as it plunged into the vice like grip of Tony's ass. It was evident his boy couldn't hold on any longer. He braced himself with one arm so he could wrap his free hand around Tony's dick.

"Cum for me Tony!" he shouted.

DiNozzo let out a primal yell that ripped the breath from his lungs while streaks of warm white cum painted his stomach and Gibbs' chest. His dick twitched and throbbed with every release.

Gibbs felt his own orgasm building like a fire in his belly that spread throughout his limbs and pooled in his loins. Unable to control it any longer, he gave in to the explosion that surged along his shaft and burst into hot sparks of pleasure. His cum shot out and into his lover's body over and over again.

"Tony!" Gibbs screamed, tossing his head back as waves of ecstasy rolled through him.

When his senses returned he was lying next to Tony with his arm tossed around his lover's chest. Gibbs nibbled DiNozzo's ear to see if he was awake.

Tony groaned and rolled over to face him. "That was amazing," he said, smiling broadly.

"You're amazing," Gibbs responded. "And I love you."

Tony's eyes misted over. "I love you, too," he whispered, leaning in to give Gibbs a long, deep kiss. He nuzzled against Gibbs' chest. "Thank you for waiting."

Gibbs circled his arms around his sub and held the other man close until he heard the soft, smooth sounds of sleep. He kissed Tony on the forehead and watched him rest peacefully, already planning how they would never be apart again.

It was several hours later that he woke to the sound of someone yelling. Tony tossed around on the bed, mumbling and cursing, repeating the word "Stop" over and over. Gibbs took his sub's arm and shook him until Tony's eyes opened and he recognized his surroundings.

"Gibbs?" He blinked a few times. "Sorry….it was a dream. I didn't mean to wake you."

The older man pulled Tony against him and stroked his hair. "It's ok, I'm glad. This happen often?"

Tony didn't answer immediately. Finally, he said, "Only if I don't take a sleeping pill. Guess I was too busy to think about it last night."

Gibbs continued to play with his hair. "You don't have anything to worry about, Tony. I'm here, and everything's fine. Why don't you try to go back to sleep and see what happens?"

Tony yawned, his eyes drifting closed. "Ok, Boss, I think I can do that." He rested his head on Gibbs' chest. The older man barely moved, listening to Tony breathe and holding him until morning.

There was no place else he'd rather be.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Glasses tinkled as they clinked together, music played softly in the background, and laughter drifted through the evening air. Strings of soft white lights twinkled adding to the muted glow of candles scattered among the tables. Several couples were dancing while others stood along the patio eating cake and talking.

Tony watched it all in disbelief, not sure how his life had taken this turn. He sipped champagne and smiled, the warmth from the alcohol competing with the happiness that flowed through every part of him. Firm arms slipped around his waist and moist breath touched his ear.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Tony slid his hand behind him and gently stroked Gibbs' face.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am."  
>Teeth nibbled his neck causing Tony's heart to race. He'd always wanted to be the center of his boss' attention, and now he had all of it. The last few months had been nothing short of a dream come true since Rule Twelve had been forgotten.<p>

"I was thinking how we need to get out of this place and go somewhere more private."

Tony laughed; one thing he'd learned was that Gibbs had an insatiable appetite for him – not that he was complaining. "What time is our flight?"

"Who said we're flying anywhere?"

Tony frowned and turned to face his boss, his Dom, his lover, and as of two hours ago, his husband.

"You still aren't going to tell me where we're going on our honeymoon, are you?"

"Nope," Gibbs answered with a half-smile, pulling him into a snug embrace.

"Bastard."

Gibbs kissed him thoroughly; he'd joked it was a sure way to get his lover to shut up, and it worked every time. "You know you love it."

"I always have." He took Gibbs' hand and scanned around the reception; it was amazing how a few well placed decorations transformed Gibbs' backyard into a place so beautiful it looked like it had been formed in a dream. "I think we have an audience," he mock whispered.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and lifted his glass of champagne toward the small knot of people who watched them intently. Abby and Ziva stood next to Dr. Sawyer, Palmer and Ducky were seated at a table with Vance and his wife, Fornell and McGee were pressed against each other. Even Madam Maison was there, sitting in a chair like a high priestess holding court. Their friends hooted and raised their glasses high, toasting the couple.

"Way to go, Bossman!" Abby yelled.

Vance waved his hand at them. "Come over here, Jackie wants to talk to you."

"Can't we just sneak out the back?" Gibbs asked, pulling Tony close and letting his hands cup the round, plump ass that was his to enjoy every day for the rest of their lives.

Tony snickered and wiggled. "You need to enjoy this experience, Jethro, since this is the last time you're going to get married."

Gibbs looked him over, and Tony was certain his new spouse was pleased. His Tom Ford suit was cut to a precise fit, his skin was tanned to perfection, and his hair had that spiky tousled style that never failed to turn Gibbs on. The dark circles under his eyes had disappeared now that he was spending every night in Gibbs' bed and had been sleeping like a content baby. "You can count on that," Gibbs growled, raising Tony's hand to reveal the silver chain bracelet that circled his left wrist. The bracelet was secured with a tiny padlock that Gibbs held the key to. His Dom kissed the inside of his wrist and Tony felt slightly light-headed. "You're officially mine and I never plan to let you go."

Tony took a steadying breath and forced himself to stay in the moment. He'd fall later, when they had an entire two weeks to spend however they wanted. Gibbs had implied they would be adding more rules, since the ones he followed now were pretty simple; no lying, no cheating, no self-destructive behavior. Not being allowed to touch himself was the most difficult rule to follow so far, but a few days wearing a chastity device had helped him gain some control, even though he'd been miserable. Gibbs had declared this particular rule non-negotiable, and had enforced the consequences without mercy.

They had also discussed whether Tony would wear a collar or if they would exchange something else during their vows. Tony had decided he wasn't ready for a collar, but he was working on it. He'd discovered that he wanted to wear one, to show his commitment to Gibbs, but it was going to take time before he could forget everything that had happened during his captivity. Gibbs assured him he didn't mind, and had suggested the bracelet as a compromise. Jethro wore a traditional wedding band to show that he was now officially off the market. The reflection of light glinting off the small silver ring reminded Tony of just how much their relationship had altered.

"Come on you guys, we want to talk to you," Abby called again.

"Let's get this over with," Tony suggested, shoving Gibbs in the direction of their teammates and friends; he appreciated their support but was more than ready to be alone with his husband. "Then we can head off on this mystery honeymoon you have planned."

Jackie sipped from a fresh glass of champagne. "You two are so perfect together," she gushed. "I told Leon that I've never seen such a gorgeous ceremony. It makes me want to renew our vows." She grasped Vance's arm – her husband shook his head slightly and looked mildly terrified.

Ducky stepped in and took the pressure off their Director. "Jackie, I've seen the pictures of your wedding and I doubt anything could be more lovely. I couldn't imagine trying to replace that memory."

She smiled appreciatively and pecked an embarrassed Vance on the cheek. "You do have a point."

"So where are you going on your honeymoon?" Ziva asked; Abby punched her in the arm and shushed the agent.

"You know it's a surprise!" the scientist declared.

Ziva grinned impishly. "I was just trying to help Tony; it is obvious he is dying to know."

"He'll know when I tell him," Gibbs stated flatly. "And not a minute before."

"No thanks to McGee," Fornell inserted, grinning when the younger man's eyes widened. Tony shuffled guiltily.

"What's he talking about?" Gibbs asked, clearly suspicious.

"Oh, nothing, you know Fornell, just trying to stir something up."

Fornell raised his eyebrows. "Tell him, Tim." McGee frowned at DiNozzo helplessly. They were busted.

"I just checked a few databases, scanned a few accounts, that's all!" McGee blurted.

Tony did his best to take the heat off his friend. "It was my wedding present from Tim; he agreed to help me figure out where we were going. I made him do it, Jethro, don't be mad at him!" Tony pleaded as Gibbs folded his arms and scowled.

"So the surprise is ruined; you know where we're going," Gibbs confirmed.

Tony met McGee's gaze and then dropped his eyes in shame. "I know."

Gibbs took a deep breath. "What should I do with him Fornell? This isn't a good way to start things out."

"I'm pretty disappointed in Tim, too. Maybe instead of a honeymoon you should just stay here and teach him how to behave."

"You can't do that!" McGee protested in support of his teammate.

"That's not fair!" Tony added indignantly.

Two hands shot out and slapped Tim and Tony on the backs of their heads before the older men started laughing.

"What's going on?" Tony asked, rubbing his head before his eyes flashed with understanding. "You knew what we were doing and set us up!" He glared at Gibbs fiercely.

Gibbs laughed so hard he was shaking. Fornell slapped his leg and clutched at his heart.

Vance gave Tony and McGee a pitying look. "You boys are way out of your league."

Tony blinked in confusion. "So we aren't going to Hawaii?"

Gibbs patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, but no."

"You helped them!" McGee pointed an accusing finger at the Director.

"Leave me out of this!" Vance held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. The rest of the team burst out laughing.

"Good one," Abby choked out, wiping at her eyes to keep the mascara from running.

"I can't believe you," Tony pouted at his husband.

Dr. Sawyer cleared his throat. "I apologize for breaking this up, but I'm going to have to say my goodbyes. I'm heading to Europe tonight and I need to finish packing." He approached Tony, who had sobered at his announcement. "You take care of yourself, Anthony."

"Thanks, Doc," Tony said quietly. "For everything."

The doctor pulled him into a hug. "Be happy, Tony. It's the only thanks I need."

Gibbs held out his hand. "I expect you to come see us next time you're in town."

Sawyer nodded. "You can count on it." He walked away, stopping briefly by the stage where the band was playing. As he moved on, the strains of a familiar song floated through the air.

Ziva snapped her fingers. "That is the song you like Tony. What movie is it from?"

"Casablanca," Gibbs answered, taking Tony's hand as they listened to "As Time Goes By."

Jackie Vance drained her glass and sat it down, grabbing Leon and ushering him to the dance floor.

"Would you care to join me, Ms. David?" Ducky asked the Israeli.

"My pleasure," Ziva replied, taking his arm.

Abby tugged Palmer onto the dance floor after them; Fornell and a nervous McGee joined the other couples.

Tony knew Gibbs wasn't much of a dancer, so he didn't say anything, holding his tongue until the older man pulled him close and held their hands between them, swaying to the melody. "I'll tell you where we're going if you really want to know," Gibbs said softly.

Tony shook his head. "As long as we're together, I don't care. You could lock me in your basement for a week and I'd be fine."

Gibbs chuckled darkly. "How do you know that's not what I have in mind? There are lots of fun toys down there we could play with."

Tony's head jerked up. "Are you serious?"

"You're way too easy," Gibbs teased. "Not about the basement, but definitely about the toys. I'm always prepared."

"What kind of toys are you talking about?" Tony asked casually. They had been playing more often, and he'd gotten used to the assortment of vibrators, butt plugs, and other tools of the trade his Dom preferred to use on him. The thought of Gibbs' toy cabinet got him hard, and his breathing hitched a little.

"Enough to keep you occupied, boy. I think we'll start with this." Gibbs' hand disappeared into the pocket of his tux and took out an emerald green cock ring. "You can wear it while we drive."

Tony swallowed. He could already feel himself slipping down. "Is that all?" he asked weakly.

Gibbs cupped his ass and squeezed. "I've got a nice green plug you can wear, too."

"How long is the drive?" Tony asked, trying to gauge just how intense this trip was going to be.

"Long enough for me to have you begging for my cock. Is that long enough?"

Tony coughed, infinitely amazed at Gibbs' ability to talk dirty. "Definitely, Boss." He glanced around at the others who were still dancing. "Can we go now?"

Gibbs brushed the hair back from his face. "Impatient, aren't you? Let's get changed and I'll get you ready. Then we'll come back down and say goodbye."

"On it, Boss," Tony grinned, already anticipating the next few deliciously stimulating hours. If he guessed right, by the time they arrived at their secret destination he would be so on edge a light breeze would make him cum. Gibbs wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him toward the house, a small grin on his face.

Tony leaned into Gibbs' arms, savoring the smell of sawdust and Old Spice that was totally Gibbs. He was content and for the first time he could remember, happy. It was all he could have ever hoped for.

"I love you, Tony," Gibbs said simply, somehow knowing that he needed to hear it again.

"I love you, too," he replied. The rest of their lives wouldn't be easy, with the complications of their histories, their work, and their stubborn temperaments. But they loved each other, and that would get them through.

As they stepped inside, the last notes of the song came to an end; with a contented smile, Tony shut the door behind them.


End file.
